Verdigris
by Good Afternoon
Summary: Green used to be the color of promise. The great Emerald City the beacon. But after 25 years of being plagued by Undead, green is now feared, abhorred, and hunted. AU.
1. Elphaba Thropp

**AN: **Hi everyone! Hope you've been having a great summer! So I know what you are thinking. "What does this girl think she's doing writing something other than the third installment? Stone her!" Well, you're right, I _should_ have been writing that instead. I will now duck and cover for the deserved stoning I am due. But as I was writing the third story I realized I was forcing myself to after a while and the writing was suffering because of it. So that story is on the backburner at the moment. I don't know when, or even if, I will get back to it but I felt that you all deserved to know what's going on. I hope to find a spark for it again someday.

In the mean time though I have had a wonderful summer (hot as hell is what I really mean) and this is what has come from all that heat exhaustion I suffered without air conditioning, yay! Yes, it's zombies and yes, the idea has probably been done to death before far better but I hope my take on them entertains you as much as writing this has entertained me. I do have to warn you all though that the characters start off far different and yet eerily similar to whom you recognize them as. I promise they won't be that way forever. ;) I'm going to post up the first couple chapters, as they are a prologue of what's to come. I want to have a majority of this all written before I start posting the rest so you won't have to wait long between updates. :)

_In movie announcer voice_: This story contains violence, graphic words, sexual situations between sexy people, undiluted Frexspar, and a fun bag of all sorts of other crazy things that will give it it's M rating by chapter 4. If that sounds good to you, then read on and expect an update soon.

I don't own anything, but it sure is fun to play in the Wicked sand box. A super thank you times a million goes out to my awesome Beta this go around, Throppsicle. Seriously, she has made a lot of my madness into sense so she deserves all the thanks really. And now I hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter 1**

_Elphaba Thropp_

Elphaba Thropp was born on the third day of the third month during the third year of the Verdigris Plague. The only one to find this ironic was Melena, and not because Frex was too busy praying (for the third time) to have a son by her bedside, while Nanny had her head buried between her raised legs. No, it was because despite all the commotion the only thing she could distinctly feel was the burning flesh she'd hidden beneath a decorative scarf along her upper arm. For this was also the third day after she'd been bitten by one of those green undead monsters.

She silently cursed her luck for the third time that night as Nanny urged her to push just one more time.

Then she cursed her father for not stopping her from marrying the imbecilic man groveling by her side.

And she certainly cursed her bad judgment from three nights prior.

That midnight craving for zucchini bread was certainly not worth the trouble.

As Melena let out a scream, gripping the bed sheets beneath her, a rush of heat flooded to her upper arm. Of everything she'd been cursing over the course of the few hours she'd spent giving birth there was one thing she would be forever grateful for. And that was that without a doubt, she knew her daughter was not of the man quivering pathetically by her side.

_Perhaps there was some luck in the world_, she thought, as her child finally cried into the night.

"It's a girl!" Nanny squealed.

Melena smiled, satisfied, and let her body sink comfortably into the bed below. She caught the briefest glimpse of green as Nanny wrapped her little girl tightly in a blanket. That was odd but she attributed it to the ever-growing plague her body was surely surrendering itself to.

"Is Melena s-supposed to be bleeding like that?" Frex finally found the words to speak, albeit shaky and fearful.

Melena had no idea what he was going on about. Surely everything had to be fine. Nanny was coddling the small girl and that incessant burning in her arm had finally stopped. So what if she was bleeding a bit down there, she _had_ after all just given birth. Oz, sometimes she believed Frex must be directly descended from Trolls.

"Don't be-" Melena breathed in sharply, surprised by the sudden, painful lack of air in her lungs.

Frex gazed over at his wife, his sweat drenched brow furrowed. Melena found it amusing that he was so absolutely nervous. If he was perspiring this much she could only imagine what her own body must have looked like.

"Don't be… stupid, Frexspar." Melena finally managed to breathe out, frustrated that it had taken her so long to even formulate the correct words.

_Soon_, she thought. _It's happening soon._

Motor functions were always the first to go.

Nanny took her sweet time cleaning the little green baby. She knew of the danger coursing through Melena's veins. She cursed the girl for being so careless… so stupid. Melena would never get to watch the precious gem in her arms grow. Never get to console her when the time would come that she'd need her mother's shoulder to cry upon. Nanny knew that day would come soon. No child would be able to resist taunting the little girl's unusual, yet surprisingly beautiful, skin.

But then again no child would ever want to be near a girl so green. Green just like the pallor of those unmentionable's terrorizing the land.

No, Nanny would keep her from such a fate.

She would be the girls' shoulder to cry upon.

She would keep her safe.

Especially from the man that was close to hysterics by Melena's unmoved side.

_Soon_, Nanny thought as she opened the drawer closest to her whilst holding the newborn tightly against her chest. The pistol was still there, candlelight gleaming off its polished surface. _It would happen soon_.

Frexspar, for his part, believed he was handling the situation with perfect grace. He showed the perfect amount of concern for his wife; he faked the perfect amount of surprise when Nanny announced that he was father to a _girl_. That just meant he'd have to pray harder the next time.

Perhaps more time spent with Melena in bed would help as well.

But when he heard a low growl roll off Melena's tongue all pretense of grace was lost upon him. Frexspar leapt to his feet, ripping his hand from his wife's. Melena was a mess of matted hair and sweat, her nightgown slipping off one shoulder as her body rose with a crack of her spine from the blood soaked bed.

"By the Unnaned God!" Frexspar gasped, hands clamped firmly over his mouth as he backed himself up against the nearest wall.

Melena's body was barely in a sitting position when the shot rang out.

A spurt of blood exploded out from behind his wife's head, staining the wall behind their bed.

Then Melena's body fell back to the soiled mattress, stilled.

Nanny sighed as the little girl in her arms began to cry anew. "Well," she said, placing the pistol back inside the drawer. "Whatever shall you name your daughter, Frexspar?"

* * *

><p>After the staff of Colwen Grounds received the news of Melena's death, or more specifically, received the news of the <em>cause <em>to Melena's fate, they fled all at once. Within one hour the manor was vacant save for Frexspar, Nanny and little Elphaba. Nanny wished them good riddance. Frexspar lamented their absence.

Who would tend to the little beast now? It was an atrocity! All green, wrinkly and… baby like.

A tiny little undead freak.

"Nanny, hand me _it._" Frexspar demanded as they stood just beyond the doors to the manor. The last cloud of dust from the carriages of their retreating staff swirled in the distance through the massive iron gates of the estate. He thrust out his arms toward the ancient woman, forcing a smile upon his face in hopes of concealing his disgust.

Nanny was not a stupid woman. "You are not to harm her, Frexspar!" She admonished, tightening her hold on the child.

Frexspar let his arms drop, all affectations lost in favor of a snarl. "She is obviously not of our kind and needs to be _taken care of_ appropriately." He hissed, eyes blazing.

"And by _appropriately_ you mean drowned in the lake, of course." Nanny glared straight back up into his beady eyes.

Frexspar felt an eyelid twitch of its own accord. "It's not of the Unnamed God!"

"Of course she's not, _she's your daughter_." Nanny said.

Frexspar sputtered then, words lost amongst all the fury building behind his shifting gaze. He tried to recall his sermons of forgiveness, of the Unnamed God's will. _This is a test_, he repeated like a mantra inside his head. _I am being punished and this is my test_.

Nanny watched him with her one good skeptical eye. The other was too far-gone from age to bother working alongside its twin. But her sight was sharp, her senses still keen. She could see Frexspar struggling with himself, trying desperately to make sense of his muddled thoughts. Every so often his gaze would flicker to the quiet baby held safe in her arms. Nanny could see it in his eyes then that he would never come to love his daughter and she accepted this as fact.

The dusk sky above their heads is pink with the promise of a clear night. Nanny wondered if Melena was up there somewhere, mocking their existence with perfectly painted heavens. It would be so like her.

Eventually the bundle in her arms began to squirm. Nanny left Frexspar to his silly thoughts as she returned into the deserted manor. Little Elphaba was hungry and Nanny would be damned if she let Frexspar get in the way of her doing what she does best.

* * *

><p>Elphaba is five when she encounters her first Unmentionable. Nanny has left her in a cool spot on the grass just outside their small garden behind the kitchens. An old wooden cooking spoon is her toy for the afternoon. Elphaba likes to bite things with her sharp little teeth. The spoons handle is freckled with dents. But today little Elphaba was not interested in biting her toy.<p>

She was far too busy using it to dig a hole.

Nanny had read her a bedtime story the night before about a mouse who dug a hole so deep he wound up on the other side of Oz. Elphaba thought it wondrous. To think all she had to do to get a friend was to dig her way to one. It was so simple! She could surely convince Nanny to let her play in the garden. They were always out there picking strawberries together. And she so did desperately want someone to play with her.

So when Elphaba asked with a point of her finger out the window that morning, Nanny immediately understood. Hand in hand they walked to the garden, little Elphaba with her spoon wielded proudly in her hand while Nanny let their old wicker basket swing lazily from her arm. As always, she told little Elphaba not to wander to the fence and to stay within sight of the kitchen windows.

Elphaba nodded, she knew enough about the horrors outside the walls to follow the directions she was given. Her father certainly preached about them enough, sometimes even scaring her a bit with the details. Elphaba thought there was no one in Oz more frightening then her father.

He would always stomp around the manor, as opposed to walking. Nanny always rolled her eyes at his surly demeanor whilst Elphaba shrunk to hide behind her Nanny's skirt. Frexspar rarely dined with the two ladies of the manor, preferring the company of his books instead. Yet on the rare occasion that Nanny forced him to eat with the small family he could never quite meet his daughter's gaze, eyes always skirting just over her hairline. Elphaba kept her head bowed anyway, eyes focused on the meal in front of her. If she were quiet enough maybe he wouldn't come at night.

She preferred his indifference to the other side of him she'd encountered. The one that would sometimes emerge well after the sun sunk beneath the hills and the sky had turned as dark as her hair. He was always loud when he was in this state and she could hear him heading toward her room like the thunder of an approaching storm rolling through the countryside. Nanny would be hot on his heels shouting after him. Their voices would grow louder, harsher until Frexspar finally would burst into her small bedroom, screaming of abominations and death.

Elphaba would pull her blanket up to her face, hiding as much of herself underneath the thin layer of protection as she could. She knew she was different. She knew she wasn't like all the other children of Oz. She wasn't stupid like Frexspar always said. But on these nights, when she can smell a strange odor pouring off her father so bitter it makes her want to close her eyes tighter and hold her breath, she believes him.

She hates that her stupid little heart beats so fast she has to clutch the blanket closer to her chest, for fear that her heart would run right through her skin if she didn't. She hates that her eyes cry stupid tears and stain the blanket Nanny gave her for her birthday. And she especially hates when Frexspar gets close to her because the only time he ever touches her is on these nights.

He grabs her by the wrists, yanking her from her underneath the safety of her sheets.

Elphaba is always too paralyzed with fear to make a sound as he drags her across the room. It's only when Nanny finally smacks one of her cooking pans across his head that he lets go. Her father crumbles to the ground in a heap, a trickle of blood running slowly from a fresh cut above his brow. There's a similar one beside it and it reminds Elphaba that this isn't the first time… nor will it be the last. Nanny manages to move Frexspar into the hallway before she takes Elphaba back to her bed, tucking her safely in her blanket and sings to her until the girls' eyes fall closed from exhaustion.

When she's sure Elphaba is asleep Nanny gives the girl a soft kiss to her forehead. On her way out the door she slips the frying pan back under the dresser, ready for the next night Frexspar decides to drown his life in alcohol rather than the lake out back.

A swelling of shame settles inside little Elphaba's gut at the memory of those nights. There is obviously something wrong with her, otherwise he wouldn't be so angry with her. None of the fathers in the books Nanny reads her ever act the way hers does.

She's sure her father hates her.

It makes her tummy squirm in that weird way it does when she sees Nanny killing a chicken for dinner. Elphaba feels ashamed at the way her father so easily belittles her presence. He acts as if the mere sight, no, the mere _thought_ of being within reach of his child would cause him to become infected with the disease of the Undead and hurl him toward an early and unforgiving grave. Not to mention it would mar his perfectly respected position as priest in the local Unionist church. It is for this reason alone that no one outside the walls of the manor knows of Elphaba's existence.

To Nanny the seculsion was a means to keep Elphaba safe from harm.

To Frexspar it is a means to keep his reputation safe from harm.

To Elphaba it is simply the way things are.

But that is going to change today because today will be the day Elphaba leaves Colwen Grounds via the hole she shall dig to the other side of Oz. Nanny is invited to come, of course, once it's finished. Her hole is almost up to her elbow when she hears a strange noise coming from down the hill. It isn't strange like the noise Nanny makes when she falls asleep reading her a story. That one is all rumbles and warmth. This noise is different. It makes her feel cold even though she's sure she's sweating all over her dirty dress. No, this noise was like the one she sometimes hears in dreams… in her nightmares about her mother.

Frexspar sometimes blames her for what happened to Melena. He shouts horrible things at Elphaba that make her want to cry because she knows it must be true, especially when Nanny looks so upset. No matter how much Nanny whispers in her ear that her father is wrong Elphaba can't help but feel responsible anyway. How can Nanny say otherwise when she's green just like _them_?

The hair on the back of Elphaba's neck stands to attention as the noise grows louder, closer. Elphaba turns to look behind her, hoping that Nanny has heard it as well but she's alone.

Then she sees a figure down by the fence along the lake. Elphaba thinks it could be a woman. The hair is long enough. It whips in the wind much like the tattered Munchkin flag that still flies above the manor. Elphaba doesn't realize she's gripping her spoon tightly until it snaps completely in half. The woman's neck snaps up just like Elphaba's spoon, then falls at an unnatural angle along her spine.

The woman is missing an eye. Elphaba's breath catches at the sight of flies emerging from the socket. And when the other glazed over eye meets Elphaba's fearful gaze, the woman growls and launches her body at the fence, gnarled hands clawing through the spaces.

Elphaba scrambles to her feet, tripping over her small hole as she screams for Nanny.

This is the first time she's seen her Nanny use a gun. She is afraid it won't be the last either.

* * *

><p>What Elphaba doesn't learn from Nanny she learns from the books in the Colwen Grounds extensive library. History is her favorite. She finds it incredible that the world was once free from the plague of Undead that by now has gotten so bad that Nanny shoots down at least two or three of those monsters a day. Elphaba wishes sometimes that Nanny would teach her how to use the gun but Nanny always tuts her away, saying there's no need for such a young girl to wield a weapon so destructive.<p>

Elphaba becomes saddened by the news but perks when Nanny promises to teach her upon her 11th birthday.

Which Elphaba notes happily is a mere three days away.

Nanny sets off with a wink after that, muttering about needing to polish the old weapon for the grand event. Elphaba heads back toward the library once more. She finished reading the entire East wall just this past Spring. She feels up for the challenge of tackling the West. She's noticed Frexspar has been adding to the collection over the past few months. It wouldn't be odd save for the fact that these books are clearly of the scientific kind and quite unlike the religious tomes he usually has his nose buried in.

It makes Elphaba feel a bit nervous. Change is not something she's accustomed to in her life. Of what she knows of change in her home it only has ever brought upon bad things. She's watched enough people's lives ruined by change through the windows on the deserted street beyond the gates. They march slowly down the road, all their belongings stacked high on a cart, hoping to make it someplace safe.

Maybe they are going someplace where change won't bring bad things anymore.

Elphaba asked Nanny once where such a place might be. And even though Nanny tells her she's already there, Elphaba doesn't quite believe her. The displaced people are going somewhere and she wonders how far it is. Sometimes when she's not busy reading she imagines what that place looks like.

But then another Unmentionable rattles at the gates and Elphaba is always pulled from her thoughts at the sound. With a sigh she closes the book in her lap and calls for Nanny.

* * *

><p>Elphaba has never seen a fire so big in her life as the one now consuming half of her home. What had started as a mere nuisance of a few Undead quickly escalated into a horde. Nanny must have fired off three-dozen rounds before the empty click of her pistol signaled the last of the bullets. Frexspar was of no help down on his knees as he prayed to the Unnamed God for salvation.<p>

The gates finally gave way under the weight of the horde and Elphaba barely had time to think before Nanny grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back inside the manor.

It all happened so fast after that and Elphaba is so terrified that she can't stop long enough to think about what's happening. A blaze erupts up along a wall to her right, the heat burning her skin. She turns to see Nanny dropping another canister of oil along the hall, a box of matches clenched between her teeth. Frexspar is coughing beside her, lungs full of smoke from his journey to the library. His shoulders are slumped with the weight of the bag of books slung across his chest. A flame ignites in front of Nanny's lips as she throws a lit match to the floor.

The wall of flames explodes so fast and so high Elphaba has to shield her eyes from the heat. She stumbles back, squinting to see. Beyond the wall of fire Elphaba can see the Unmentionables, relentless in their path toward them. Some are burning and the smell of their rotting flesh melting to the wood floors finally hits her senses. Not a second later, the wave of nausea hits her and she finds herself retching in a doorway.

"Go, child!" Nanny shouts, pushing her along the hall.

Elphaba obeys, stumbling along the corridor to avoid her mess, one green hand sliding along the wall to keep her from crashing to the floor.

She feels a hand wrap around her wrist and looks up through the smoke, which is quickly engulfing the hall, to see see her father urging her forward.

If this weren't the end of her short life Elphaba would be sure she must be hallucinating.

But Frexspar takes her by the hand for the first time and tugs her along behind him as they duck outside the back entrance to the kitchens.

Elphaba collapses to the ground, gasping in giant lungfuls of the fresh afternoon air.

Nanny bursts through the doorway a moment later, face covered with soot and eyes clear as the sky above.

"Fuck it all!" Frexspar shouts to the clouds lazily drifting above. "If this is still your will, if this is still my test, then I beg of you to end this misery _now_!"

Nanny smacks Frexspar across the back of his head sending him face down into the dirt. "Stop shouting you silly man! Do you want them to come charging through and have at your brains?"

"No," Frexspar mutters, shaking his head as he rights himself to his feet once more. Elphaba watches the adults from her spot huddled on the ground. She has to stick her hands between her knees to stop them from shaking so hard. This was never supposed to happen. Nanny had promised their home was safe and now look! It's burning to the ground!

Where will they go? How will they _survive_?

As tears cloud over her vision an explosion in the kitchen sends the small family flying back into the garden. Elphaba can hear her father groaning from somewhere off to her side; the bag full of books is obviously not cushioning his spine.

But what Elphaba hears next stills the very core of her being. For Elphaba has never heard Nanny's voice hit the pitch of a scream before. Not _ever_. And before Elphaba can get to her feet she watches helplessly as one of the horde sinks its broken teeth into Nanny's neck.

"Come on!" Elphaba hears her father shouting now but her blood has run so cold and she is so rooted to her spot in the strawberry patch that she couldn't move even if she tried. It's as if the vines of the leaves have wrapped themselves so tightly about her ankles that the very thought of severing her tie to them will send her collapsing into an unconscious bundle to the ground.

Nanny's life is fading before Elphaba's eyes. But despite the Undead now latched to her shoulders, Nanny looks up and smiles at her, almost serene. Nanny shoves them back with the last of her strength, giving Elphaba and Frexspar the chance to flee.

The smell of the fresh strawberries crushed beneath Elphaba's feet swirls into the air above. Elphaba will forever think death smells of sweetness. As Frexspar finally grabs a hold of his daughter, tearing her from her spot in the strawberry patch, Elphaba thinks the feeling beating in her heart must be the love Nanny would always read to her about…

She is saddened as she escapes from the estate with her father that she never got the chance to let her Nanny know of it.

Frexspar is beside himself with panic as he pulls his green daughter along behind him, brushing aside the overgrowth that has been left unmaintained along the edge of the estate. He steals a glance behind him. Elphaba's eyes are still focused on the flames destroying their home; destroying what's left of her Nanny.

There's only one place safe enough from the scourge of Undead in the land. He hates that it's also a place filled the other scourge of Oz, those following the Pleasure Faith. But he must get them both to safety and Unnamed God be damned if he lets those deserters of faith keep him from his goal. The Verdigris have taken everything from him and it's time he took action against this injustice. Frexspar plows through the tall grass, unlatching the hidden gate with a single kick. He feels a weight lifting from his burdened shoulders as they exit the manor. _Elphaba is the key to stopping all of this,_ he thinks to himself.

His horrid daughter was not delivered to him without reason.

This is his test.

This is what he was put on this land to do.

Ever determined, Frexspar marches them onward. He will take them to the Emerald City where he will demand the use of the Munchkin Consulate as him home. After all being the sole heir to the land did have some perks right? And there, locked inside the gates of the Emerald City, protected behind the doors of the consulate's thick walls Frexspar will uncover the cause to the madness sweeping over Oz.

_Elphaba is the key_, he repeats like a mantra in his head. _She is the key._

Elphaba learns they are heading to the Emerald City. She has read of the place. It is a giant metropolis of the Wizard's creation. A safe haven for those whom need refuge from the Undead.

For the first time in her life Elphaba feels safe within the presence of her father.

He's unquestionably leading them to salvation.


	2. Galinda Upland

**AN: **As promised here is chapter two. I'll be back to post the rest of the story once it's all finished. A month perhaps? I hope you've enjoyed what you've read so far and thanks to those who have reviewed, added this to their alerts, and sent me such wonderful messages! Seriously, thank you for taking yet another chance with yet another crazy story of mine. :)

**Chapter 2**

_Galinda Upland_

Galinda Upland was never supposed to be born. At that time in Northern Gillikin it was most unfashionable to be giving birth to children whilst others were watching their own being eaten.

But Mrs. Edlyn Arduenna Upland was not about to turn her husbands advances aside, especially after he'd just bought her that lovely emerald bracelet she'd been eyeing. And if ever questioned about the new addition to the Upland lineage Edlyn would simply feign a giggle, excusing the whole ordeal on lack of planning. Her favorite line to reply with was, "How was I supposed to keep track of myself _and_ run a household with those Unmentionables gnawing upon my servant staff every other day?" Her friends would nod, understanding, as they continued to sip their tea on the deck. But Edlyn could always feel their disapproving looks judging her from over the rim of their cups.

Sometimes she imagined that she could even hear their thoughts.

A slight squint from Maidel really translated to, "What kind of woman brings a child into this world?"

A small cough from Ulla surely meant, "How selfish can one get?"

But Edlyn holds her head high and drinks her tea in peace knowing her daughter is tucked safely inside their new home, cared after by no less than the best Ama their money could afford.

_Sometimes_, Edlyn thinks, _marrying for wealth has its perks_.

It afforded her and her husband to escape their lavish home in Frottica, once the Unmentionables overran the grounds, and to settle in the "quaint" valley at the base of Mount Runcible. Edlyn wouldn't call it quaint so much as a last resort. It's the only town in existence, that she knows of anyway, where a small contingent of men are kept well paid to patrol the land, assuring those living within the town were safe from those stricken with the horrendous plague.

Edlyn shudders every time she recalls those soulless things feasting upon her staff back in Frottica. They certainly were hideous creatures and how foul they smelled!

No, it was best she and her husband came to this cold town. Little Galinda could grow up far away from all that was plaguing Oz and have a normal adolescence. Albeit, as normal as they could afford it to be at any rate. She desperately hoped some other woman in town would birth as well if only so she could have one confidant in this Unnamed God forsaken place. Not that there was anything wrong with Maidel and Ulla, but they were being a bit hypercritical and Edlyn swears she saw Ulla wearing that same dress just last week.

Just because the world is surely coming to an end does not excuse one from not looking one's best.

If anything one must try harder to maintain the privileged lifestyle one has come to know.

Otherwise one might as well walk straight into a horde of Verdigris for all one is worth anymore.

"So Eddie," Ulla says, pulling Edlyn from visions of her friends meeting that very fate. Edlyn hopes the smile on her face hasn't given anything away. She straightens her posture anyway and meets Ulla's steady gaze. "Have you any plans for Lurlinemas this year?"

* * *

><p>Galinda Upland is the only child in the town, now dubbed Mottica, because if there is one thing this town lacks in that is imagination. But Galinda Upland is ok with this as she is only five and she thinks she has enough of an imagination to make up for the friends she is lacking. Her Ama seems to be the only vintage person in this place who will indulge her fantasies anyway. All the other old people, oops… no, <em>vintage<em> people, her Momsie always corrects her to say. Apparently vintage people take offense when you call them old and Galinda doesn't understand why they would, because some of them look wrinklier then her fingers and toes do when Ama Clutch forgets to take her out of a bath.

Galinda thinks her Ama is the only other person in town as young as she. (And that's not saying much since she knows her Ama sometimes sneaks out at night to play with that dumb man from a few houses down. ) Why won't her Ama play with her? She's far better at make believe than him! Galinda doesn't understand why her Ama never wants to play Princesses... and she keeps calling Galinda her little duck! Galinda just doesn't understand because she's seen the ducks play in the stream off their back porch and she doesn't think she looks anything like them. It worries Galinda sometimes that Ama Clutch may know something about her that she doesn't.

Whilst most children are plagued with nightmares of the Undead taking their parents, Galinda is plagued with nightmares of her skin sprouting feathers and her mouth growing into a bill. She wakes up screaming on those nights, thrashing about in her bed until Ama Clutch comes into her room to calm her down.

"I'm n-not a _duck_," Galinda whimpers against her Ama's stomach, her little fingers gripping desperately at the rough fabric of Ama Clutch's nightgown.

And Ama Clutch clucks at her charge, assuring her that she is indeed, not a duck and that all is well. But Galinda isn't convinced because she swore her Ama just _quacked _at her like the Momma ducks do in the stream to the babies and it just makes Galinda cry more.

Galinda is finally convinced to fall asleep with the promise that her Ama will play Princesses with her tomorrow.

Later in the night Galinda is woken again, but this time by an explosion far off in the forest. Ama Clutch returns to settle little Galinda once more; promising the fire in the sky is all for the sake of her birthday tomorrow.

"They are practicing the fireworks for you right now." Ama whispers, holding Galinda tight. Galinda smiles, hoping they have pink ones for her. Her Ama is shaking and Galinda thinks it's silly because it's certainly not cold in her room.

* * *

><p>Galinda doesn't get fireworks for her birthday but she sure did get lots of new dolls and dresses so it's okay that the fireworks had to keep sleeping like her Popsicle said. She makes her Ama change her into every single dress until she picks the perfect one for their afternoon game of Princesses. It will be the greatest adventure ever because Ama has told her this shall be the only time she'll play so Galinda is going to make it count. Galinda is to be the Fairy Princess because it is her wildest dream to one day make magic. Ama Clutch shall be the Quadling Princess because Galinda has heard stories from her Momsie about how ugly Quadlings are and even though Ama Clutch isn't as ugly as they sound she's still not as pretty as her Momsie so that's why she has to be one.<p>

It's the best day of Galinda's life for a long time.

* * *

><p>When Galinda is seven she notices a change in the people of her town. There seems to be less of them now then there ever were before. Galinda wants to play skip rocks on the bit of pavement near the front of her home but Ama Clutch tells her not today. Galinda wonders why her Ama isn't smiling at her as usual when she tells her to come inside but maybe Ama Clutch is truly turning into a vintage person finally since it seems one quality they all share is the inability to ever be happy.<p>

In fact no one in Mottica looks happy at all today and Galinda even saw Momsie's vintage friend Ulla crying _right in front_ of the baker shop.

Something is wrong and no one is telling her anything, so Galinda does the one thing she knows best and sets out to get her way.

Her parents finally sit her down that night to give her the talk they've been dreading since Galinda was born.

"You see Galindadoodle, there is…" her father begins to say, scratching at his thick mustache before turning to his wife and raising his brows. Galinda scoots up right to the edge of her chair, eyes wide and open. Whatever is going on must be big if Popsicle is looking to Momsie for help telling her.

"There is a sickness," Edlyn says after a moment, turning away from her husband and back to Galinda. She reaches over and takes one of Galinda's hands into her own. Galinda looks down at their hands, slightly confused.

"If it's just a sickness then why don't they just get some medicine?" Galinda asks.

Her parents sigh, doing that weird look between them both again. It frustrates Galinda that she can't understand what that look means… and it scares her because her parents have always been so sure of everything. What makes this sickness so different?

Galinda gasps, "does it turn you into a duck?"

Finally her father looks back over. "No Princess, it's nothing like that. It's-"

"Yes," her mother interjects with a nod. "Not a duck, but it turns people into something… something without a soul." Momsie is speaking so softly that Galinda is afraid she'll fall right off her chair if she scoots any closer. But Galinda feels a bit relieved to know it's not some horrible duck sickness. "Do you… do you understand Galinda?"

She stares at her parents. Ama Clutch spoke to her of souls once when Galinda asked what happens once you die. She wasn't stupid; she knew some of the vintage people in town were dying because you could only live so long being so wrinkly before you needed a new body. But when Ama Clutch explained to her there was no new body, just the part inside of you that lived on… naturally, Galinda became quite confused.

Certainly her organs weren't going to leave her body and sprout legs. If that were the case then how come she never saw any hearts trying to buy cheese?

"Not literally your insides, child." Ama Clutch chuckled at her. "Your soul is different, you can't touch it like you can your heart."

"I _can't _touch my heart," Galinda shrieked, patting her chest frantically to see if maybe she could… maybe if she just concentrated hard enough. When her hands met nothing but skin she looked up to her Ama, eyes glossy. "Can you?"

Again her Ama laughed but Galinda didn't find it near the least bit funny. "Ama Clutch, stop mocking me!"

"Excellent use of the word of the day," Ama Clutch praised. Galinda beamed "And to answer seriously, no, I cannot touch my heart. I should have perhaps said nose instead." Ama smiled and tapped one finger atop Galinda's nose. Galinda giggled, swatting away at her Ama's hand.

"So then what is a soul?" Galinda asked.

"It's you," Ama Clutch said with the warmest smile Galinda had seen on her face in a long time. "It's who you are and who you will always be. Even once you're _old_ and _wrinkly_ and time stops your heart. You will still be who you are, you'll still live on, just differently. More purely."

"Like magic?" Galinda breathed.

Ama Clutch smiled. "Yes dear, like magic."

So when Galinda's mother tells her there's a sickness that leaves a person without a soul, Galinda can't help but recoil in her chair and cross her arms tightly over her chest. To be without the part of her that she knows is magic would be worse than any fate she can imagine at all.

She nods at her mother's lingering question. She understands, without a doubt, what the sickness can do. And over the course of the next few years she learns first hand just how devastating it truly is.

* * *

><p>By the time Galinda is thirteen there are hardly any families left in Mottica. The plague has taken so many that it's also hard to even bother caring for those left standing. Why should she have to attend dinner at the Masines? She's overheard Popsicle on countless occasions go on about how their money is about to run out. And when your money is gone, you're as good as dead. Without it the Masines won't be able to afford their place in town and surely be tossed outside the gates.<p>

So what is the point of attending dinner with a family that is sure to be stricken by the next night? And as if to make matters worse Galinda knows their eldest son, at least twenty years her senior, has been eyeing her up all over town since she started developing breasts. He's sure to pull some sort of drastic measure to make sure he stays whilst his parents are outcast to the Unmentionables roaming the forests.

Being propositioned by someone who could be _her father_ just reeks of desperation. Not to mention it's beyond gross.

Even grosser than being propositioned by an Undead, because at least with an Undead they'd only want to eat her brain and not eat what's under her skirts.

Galinda shudders, disgusted by the mere thought.

"Just come with us, Galinda," Edlyn says over breakfast when Galinda insists for what feels like the thousandth time that she will NOT be attending the dinner tonight.

"I refuse to be within a hundred paces of that man." Galinda says.

Edlyn sighs. "Your father will be there, so you need not worry about whatever tricks it is you're imagining Stave will pull. Besides it's the least you can do to show your support to his family."

"Oh yes," Galinda says with a roll of her eyes. "I can only imagine the _uplifting_ dinner that shall be. 'Mrs. Masine, this pie is simply _scrumptious_, you know what else I hear is scrumptious? Brains. We must really keep correspondence once you've turned. Just because you've been outcast from Mottica doesn't mean we shant remain friends!'" Galinda trills, then allows her beaming smile to slip from her lips as she fixes her mother with a bored expression. "I simply _can't_ miss out on that evening."

Her father snorts but smothers it well with a cough. "Allergies." He mumbles after his wife gives his shoulder a sharp smack.

"Galinda you are going to that dinner and _that is final_." Edlyn says, but Galinda has heard that tone before. It only sparks the argument within her to blaze brighter.

"And tell me _mother_, what will you have to say to the Masines at dinner tonight?" She smirks as she takes a bite of a rather bitter pastry. The baker was removed not long ago and whilst Galinda appreciates her Ama's attempts to replace her favorite morning meal, it just isn't the same. She politely spits some of the baked disaster into a napkin, smiling over to her Ama to assure her it's not at all what it looks like.

"I will say what I always tell those about to leave us." Edlyn replies. "We're sorry to see you go and please stay safe."

Her husband lets out a grunt as he drops his mug of equally bitter tasting tea to the table. "They won't last but a week without trained guards! It's like I keep saying, we need to train _ourselves _and stop relying on our money to keep up safe."

"Don't be silly, Allard!" Edlyn says waving her stale biscuit at him in, what Galinda notes, is a foolish fashion. "I won't have our family stooping to the lows of the barbarism that has befallen the rest of Oz. This is the turn of the _century_ for goodness sake, we need to maintain some semblance of _society_."

"Society be damned!" Allard shouts. "You act as though the Verdigris are a nuisance only suffered by the poor. Well, I will have you know Edlyn that we very well may _be _those poor soon."

Silence encompasses the family then. Edlyn lets her biscuit fall to the table. It knocks against the wood loudly before tumbling to the ground like the rock it surely is. The only one still carrying on with the meal is Allard, who butters the last of the toast with such precision and concentration that Galinda is afraid he will butter right up his arm if he continues any further.

Galinda herself feels as though her very existence has been halted in time. The air has shifted in the small kitchen. All all at once she can feel every hair rising off her skin, every stitch in her dress itching across her thighs. She's never felt more alive in all her life then she does in this moment. She thinks this is what magic must feel like. A powerful surge of emotion so strong it just stops everything but burns like fire in its wake. Galinda doesn't realize her lungs were starving for air until she feels her Ama's hand come to rest over her knee gently.

Galinda has never been so thankful for her Ama's presence.

"W-what do you mean? Surely we can't-" Edlyn mutters, eyes flicking quickly from her husbands unrelenting assault on the toast and back to his stoic face.

Galinda watches as her father's shoulders finally fall and he lets out a long strangled breath. "It was never supposed to go on this long Edlyn… the Wizard was supposed to have stopped it by now."

"What are we to do then? What are we to _DO ALLARD_!" Edlyn screams. Her hairline is dotted with sweat.

Galinda's mother is always composed, always proper and never hysterical. To see her acting so, well, _primal_ stirs something inside of Galinda.

"We'll go to dinner with the Masines," she answers because it's all she can think of to say.

* * *

><p>It didn't matter that their money was soon to go, because that night during the most depressing dinner of all their lives, the Undead finally breached the gates to Mottica.<p>

Stave, for all his ugliness and come-ons, actually proved to be a decent fellow when he threw himself against an Unmentionable that was mere seconds away from turning Galinda into his midnight snack.

And Galinda, for her part, tries not to surrender to her urge to run in a panicked circle, arms failing above her head as she screams into the clear night sky above. Because, while the urge to do so is great, she knows that will do little to save her from the Undead that are quickly going to overtake her if she doesn't slip out of her heels and make a run for it alongside the rest of her family.

Mottica burns that night, the fire swirling so high into the air the Galinda thinks it may reach the stars above. Her father is sprinting ahead of them, his sole weapon a garden hoe he carries in front of him as if it's a King's sword. Her mother is clinging so tightly to her arm as they try to keep up with his strides that she's sure she won't have any feeling left in her fingers soon. But she's grateful, so grateful for the vice like grip her mother has against her. It means that she's alive, that she is safe.

Unlike her Ama.

Galinda feels her eyes starting to burn and she wipes furiously at the water collecting in her vision. She knows her Ama's soul is safe; a guardsman shot her down before she could succumb to the sickness. But Galinda knows her sleep will forever be haunted with the memory of her Ama being tackled to the ground, her screams piercing the night as the Unmentionable sank it's teeth into the back of one of her Ama's knees.

And now, instead of feeling the fire burning off the homes of the town, Galinda feels the burn of a different fire in her lungs. They can't keep running this way; soon they will tire, and soon the Verdigris will be upon them as well.

Her heart is pumping so fast and her lungs are stinging so much that Galinda feels herself grow faint. Black tendrils start crossing along her vision, she sees her father stop ahead, hoe raised high, ready to strike. As he brings it down on the head of an Undead, tainted blood spurts across his chest and Galinda Upland finally empties her stomach of the stale pie from dinner that night. She promptly falls to the ground beside it, unconscious.

* * *

><p>Galinda turns fourteen in a makeshift refugee camp along Vinkus borders. Instead of her usual gifts of makeup, dresses, and shoes, Galinda is given a set of arrows, a bow and some daggers from her father.<p>

"This is unacceptable, Allard!" Edlyn shouts at him later that night inside their tent. An oil lamp hangs off a rusted nail along their center mast. It's glow barely extends to where Galinda sits in a corner on her cot, turning one of the daggers over in her hand and trying to quell the urge to vomit all over her mother's freshly swept dirt floor. Ever since that night in Mottica, the mere thought of killing an Undead in the manner her father had has her searching for the nearest bucket to empty her stomach into.

Her parents are always having the same argument. Allard has spent every waking minute bettering himself as a fighter for his family, adamant that Galinda join him as well. It infuriates Edlyn to no end. Sometimes he even thinks of using the rest of their money to send her to military academy just so he'll know she'll be safe and well trained. Edlyn will hear nothing of it of course. No Arduenna daughter of hers will be marching around Oz slaying the Undead. That is simply _not_ happening. What man would ever marry a woman who could protect him far better than _he_ could _her_? Allard believes no man is worth marrying if he thinks as his wife does.

Galinda tries to tune them out but Oz do they ever get loud and the tent isn't like their old home. She just can't walk over to her room to escape their yelling. She sighs looking down at her arms. A light sheen of sweat has been constantly clinging to her skin since their escape to this tent city. Tonight is no different and Galinda has long since given up the urge to keep wiping her skin dry. It's always hot here. Maybe that's why there haven't been any Unmentionables around. Surely their rotting flesh would hold up no better than hers is.

The dagger is beautiful though; Galinda gives her father credit for that. He told her he bartered them off a tribesman who'd come to the city with goods to sell. There is some sort of inscription along the short hilt but Galinda couldn't make it out and anyway it is probably in some sort of ancient Winkie tongue. A proverb or something about being brave or some nonsense like that.

Galinda is thankful for the gifts even though she's sure she's never going to lay a finger on them after this night. She imagines her father might get more use of them as he continues to practice outside the tent with some of the other men of the village.

And speaking of those men, Galinda is more than pleased with the newfound selection of them their move has provided. No vintage people here, that is for sure. All the burly young men surprised even her mother if her flushed cheeks are any indication every time they took a stroll to escape the heat inside the tent. There are a few Galinda has her eye on but her new (and very first) friends, Pfannee and Milla, keep insisting she could do far better.

Galinda sometimes thinks they just want the boys to themselves and if she is honest with herself she can _so_ do better, much better, but this may also be the last year of her life so she may as well enjoy all there is to offer, right?

Two weeks after her birthday Galinda has her first kiss with the boy from two tents over. His mouth is chapped and Galinda thinks he tastes of carrots but at least she's ticked off one box on her list.

At few months later she lets another boy, this one from the other side of the camp, stick his tongue in her mouth. She admits he tastes better than the first boy but he's so sweaty and there's certainly something pushing against her thigh that she _knows _shouldn't be doing so, so soon. She pulls away and makes some excuse as she retreats home, spitting to the ground to rid her mouth of his taste.

At a wedding celebration the next year Galinda has a bit too much to drink and mistakes the daughter of her father's favorite sparring partner for a boy. To Galinda's credit it was an honest mistake; the girl had obviously just chopped off all her lovely long hair in favor of staying cool during the scorching summer suffocating them all. And Galinda admits she tastes much better than those stupid boys she kissed last year. Though that may also be the alcohol speaking.

Galinda realizes she is indeed kissing a _she_ when the girl whispers her name. And she doesn't care because she's never kissed a girl before but so far she likes it much better than the boys. Boys are all force and thick lips and this girl is all soft. Galinda is concerned that she makes a very unattractive noise when she feels the girl's hand slide up her stomach. But then she realizes that the girl is making the noise, too, and it sounds far better coming from her makeout partner.

Galinda checks off another box on her mental list that night and if it hadn't been for Pfannee _interrupting_ she would have definitely checked the big one off too.

No, that check went to the dreamy stud of the camp on her sixteenth birthday. This time no alcohol was consumed and Galinda had followed Pfannee's rules of at least courting him for two weeks or so beforehand. She rolls her eyes thinking about the awkwardness of it all. What do society rules matter when you're living in squalor about to die at any moment?

After Galinda loses herself to him she thinks she can die now, and not because she's finally checked off everything she can from her list, but because somehow it left her feeling remarkably empty. He pulls his pants up as she continues lying half dressed on the blanket in the tall grasses just outside their city. She continues lying out there long after he's gone.

Two days later the Undead converge on their camp. Galinda looses her father in the mayhem that ensues. Galinda didn't think she could feel emptier than she did on the night when she lost her virginity. But now, treading further into the Vinkus with the few other members of camp who managed to escape, Galinda feels a void so big inside her soul that she's sure if an Undead horde were to find them they would consider her one of their own.

That night, in a field surrounded by broken families and dwindling fires crackling around their small camp, Galinda's mother makes a decision. They will use the rest of their fortune to send Galinda to the finest Military Academy in all of Oz. When she tells Galinda of her plans, Galinda protests.

"Instead of wasting Popsicle's money on knives and guns, just send me to Shiz instead!" Galinda shouts, causing several families nearby to look up at the mother and daughter. A heat settles over Galinda's cheeks. She lowers her voice and tries to reason with her mother. "Look, Momsie, I know Academy is what Popsicle wanted for me and yes I would definitely be able to protect myself with the training but at Shiz I could become a Sorceress. I could even find a way to stop all this death!"

Edlyn shakes her head. "Please Galinda, please don't fight me on this. Your father didn't die so you could fumble with magic. Magic is an unknown but _this_," she says handing Galinda one of the daggers from inside her small bag of all their worldly belongings, "This you can learn. Look how far your farther progressed and in just a year! Imagine how better off you'll be with three times that training."

"Even with a year he still fell to Verdigris hands." Galinda hisses. Edlyn slaps her in the face. Galinda recoils from her mother's hand, touching her cheek gently where the burn of her mother's anger settles against her skin.

"Do not," her mother begins to say, but chokes on her words as tears flood her eyes. "He did everything he could to make sure you were safe, Galinda. That _you_ lived. Do you not understand what he sacrificed for you? How much he loved you?"

Galinda feels a lump forming in her throat and she has to swallow thickly to dislodge it. The feeling of guilt is relentless and wraps back across her neck so quickly that she's afraid she may suffocate under its unrelenting grip. Her eyes turn to the floor and she nods.

That spring, when a Calvary of the Wizard's troops move through the Vinkus grasslands, Galinda and her mother travel with them. Within a few weeks Galinda is enrolled at Kellswater Academy, the most prestigious training school outside the Emerald City Walls.

Galinda vows to do her father proud… and if her mother has her say, also pick up a suitable husband along the way.


	3. Blood of the Daughter

**AN: **And we're back! From here on out, expect an update every couple days or so. :) I hope you all enjoy the story and major thanks to Throppsicle for continuing to be an awesomesause beta!

**Chapter 3**

_Blood of the Daughter_

Elphaba has been locked in for the evening. To pass the time she watches a snail crawl slowly up the window of her attic room. It seems content in its simple life, she thinks, heading up toward the sky. If only it knew there was nothing above but the cold Consulate rooftop. Surely there are no snail companions up this far from the dead shrubs in the overgrown planters down below. But he (or she, Elphaba corrects herself) doesn't seem to care.

Laughter travels up from several floors below to where Elphaba sits, jackknifed against the upturned box beside her sole window. Frexspar is throwing a party for himself tonight and Elphaba can't help but sigh as she hears the festivities. Tonight is her eighteenth birthday. Yet she knows her father is not celebrating for her, oh no. This is a party being held for no other purpose than to stroke his ego. Though, at this point, Elphaba is also sure her father isn't even aware that that this is her birthday, or how old she is now.

That would imply that he cares.

Elphaba only serves one purpose in her father's life and that is to further his research towards a cure for the Undead.

"Merry birthday, me." Elphaba says quietly to the snail. An adult: that is what she has become today. Elphaba feels more like a snail then she does an adult. They're obviously both traveling slowly toward an end that's sure to disappoint. Tomorrow she is set to undergo another operation down in Frexspar's lab. Elphaba doesn't have to look down to her journal to remember what her father had muttered under his breath the last time she was recovering from one of his so-called "trials".

Bone extraction.

Elphaba hugs her knees tighter to her chest just thinking about what tomorrow will bring. She's been through enough procedures by now, and read enough scientific books, to know that Frexspar is not a surgeon. He is in no way equipped to be hacking a hole through her flesh. A shiver runs the length of her body just imagining it. Even though she knows she's in for a great deal of pain, pain which she always endures to avoid rousing her father's temper, she can't help but think that it's all for the best.

Because, well… what if he's right? What if hidden inside her is the cure? He'd have to tell someone, for sure _the_ _Wizard_.

Then Elphaba would be free, lauded even, for bringing an end to the Verdigris Terror.

It would be wonderful. So very wonderful, Elphaba thinks with a small smile.

That is why she's willing to endure these agonizing experiments.

There's never been a bone comparison done before, not that she is aware of anyway. She can only keep up to date by eavesdropping on Frexspar's conversations in his den with other, more notable, men of science. Sometimes Elphaba has to cover her mouth as she presses her ear close to the floorboards. The dust her nervous breaths kick up always itches at her eyes, giving her the unwelcome urge to sneeze. She must focus intently to decipher what they are discussing, hastily jotting down key phrases into her journal as they carry on below.

The snail is almost at the top of her window when Elphaba looks back up. Her journal is still open on the floor beside her, broken pencil lying across the inner spine. The page before her is blank save for one slanted line. As Elphaba reads it all the hope that had swelled in her chest just moments before, disappears, leaving her hollow.

"_I doubt that I may be the link between humans and the Undead."_

Elphaba remembers writing the line a few nights prior. After years of enduring Frexspar's trails with no end in sight, it is only natural that she feels occasional twinges of uncertainty. Certainly she is different. She's been told that her whole life. Her skin makes her repulsive, much like the Unmentionables who share her coloring. But beyond that, she's not special or unique. In fact, she's rather boring and un-extraordinary. How could she be the link? How could she possibly hold the secret to Oz's salvation when every hero she's read about is incredibly gifted, handsome and personable? She is none of those things. And as Frexspar so often threatened; what was one less green freak in the world?

A horn blasts from an old streetcar just down the road, shaking Elphaba from her thoughts. There are a few people making their way up the side paths, coats wrapped snuggly about their shoulders. Elphaba counts them.

Two Winkies, caramel toned, arguing.

One Animal, definitely a type of Deer, beige fur.

Three pale skinned people, all stout… a family perhaps?

Yes, a family, Elphaba decides, watching the mother grab a hold of her child's hand. As the family embarks across the empty road Elphaba thinks she may have more in common with the lone snail then she does with any of them. No one is green. The oddest color she ever recorded seeing in her journal was a very red-faced munchkin whom she later realized was an extremely drunk munchkin. The only green in sight as she looks back out the window shines from the Palace towers glinting in the sun. The tips are the only part of the towers that she can see above the other buildings of the city. The green is brilliant, Elphaba thinks. Beautiful even. Frexspar has told her that the people in the streets below would surely find her abominable; a horror. But how can this be true when they find the palace so incredible?

The Unmentionables are said to be lacking souls, but if everyone is so heartless, they might as well have succumbed to the plague already, even in their natural, Unnamed God-given skin.

Of course, Elphaba has never met another living person (or Animal, she corrects herself), so she doesn't really know. But she doubts she wants to find out.

She has read many a book on human compassion, decency and love. Elphaba thinks she'll never experience any of that again though , not after the death of Nanny. She resigns herself, as she always does on her birthdays, to her isolated fate. She's better off alone, anyway. At least alone, she is safe.

She's content to live confined inside the Consulate. She has books and music to keep her company. And her father is the one Elphaba has to thank for them.

Especially music.

Elphaba is forbidden from touching the grand piano in her father's longue but sometimes, when Frexspar is away giving sermons, Elphaba will sneak into the room where it's kept. For years she tried coaxing her fingers over the keys to make a melody of sorts. Nanny had taught her a few positions when she was young but those were lost in the far corners of her mind. She couldn't remember where to place her hands let alone which pedals to push.

But Elphaba was determined not to let this one piece of happiness in her life go. So every time Frexspar was away, she would play. Horribly at first and for months completely in the wrong key but over time she improved. Elphaba rewards herself for the trials with a song.

She thinks she may need to reward herself with two for what's to come tomorrow.

In the morning Frexspar wakes her in the same manner he always does for a procedure. The door is unlocked and swung open before Elphaba can even open her eyes. The same dull gray rag, once white years ago, is thrown into her face as she sits up. Her father says nothing as he slams the door behind him on his way out.

Elphaba tucks the rag into the pocket of her dress and goes to the window. The dawn light is just starting to peek over the tall walls surrounding the city. Elphaba's reflection turns almost peach at this hour. She re-braids her long hair, using the glass as her makeshift mirror, thinking about what could have been had the peach-skinned girl in the window been born instead of she.

The snail is long gone now; only its dried slime trail still remains.

Elphaba heads downstairs hoping the snail found what he was looking for above.

* * *

><p>Frexspar's laboratory is a physical representation of what Elphaba believes is her father's mind. It's a chaotic disarray of electric lamps, books, glass bottles, chemicals, tables, papers and equipment that Elphaba knows Frexspar can find in an instant. She hasn't dared to touch one thing knowing that he'd find out and the punishment she would be dealt for contaminating his things would leave her bedridden for weeks.<p>

It has happened before and that was simply over having washed his utensils.

Frexspars' lab is his domain. This is where he reigns. He built this from his own hands. He was the one to knock down the walls to the old servant quarters to expand the space. He was the one who bartered off nearly all the furniture and items in the Consulate to acquire the necessary supplies to fill his realm.

Her father doesn't acknowledge her entrance, too busy by his desk, back turned. Elphaba makes her way to the table in the middle of the room which is centered under a few of the brighter electrics. She can hear the hum of the power running through the thick wires as she sits herself down on the cold surface. It's soothing almost, the one constant sound in the lab. It distracts her from why she's here: from the rod lying on the cart beside the table, the one she's sure will soon pierce her skin.

Elphaba takes a deep breath before lifting her bare feet atop the table. Her fingers work quickly, strapping the leather bonds across her ankles, securing her legs in place. She lies back along the metal sheet covering the old dining table, squinting as the lights above burn into her eyes. It takes a few seconds for her eyes to adjust before she buckles her left hand in the shackle at her side.

Frexspar glances briefly at her feet as he always does when he hears the third click of her bonds. He will have to approach her soon to secure the last. Elphaba tries not to watch as his shoulders shudder at the prospect of having to touch his daughter. She has one last task to accomplish. A small clear bottle rests on the stand beside the makeshift operating table. Elphaba loosens the cap and pours some of the liquid onto the frayed grey rag.

Once done, Elphaba raises the cloth to her mouth, inhaling sharply. She knows when she wakes there will be pain, but she is thankful Frexspar has at least given her the comfort to sleep through the trials. It's the only thing he's ever given her. She does not take it for granted.

Elphaba barely sees him enter her field of vision before she passes out.

* * *

><p>There's a throbbing ache beating a strong rhythm through Elphaba's nerves, prying her surely from her induced sleep. A cry tries to push past her lips but the leather belt secured between her teeth muffles the sound. Brown eyes finally open; the lights above are bright and blinding. Elphaba feels another shot of pain explode from her side, her body instinctively thrashing upward and away from the cause.<p>

"Oz, be damned!" Frexspar curses, using a free hand to push his daughter back against the table. Elphaba feels his fingers wrap around her shoulder, holding her in place. She's more surprised by the touch then the long metal bar poking out from her hip. But once her eyes register what's happening, that she's awake _during_ the procedure, all her senses flare, sensations multiply exponentially to a degree that makes her nearly faint.

Her dress has been pulled up to her ribs; the fabric suddenly feels like the weight of streetcar pressing down upon her exposed body. The cool air, once so still, passes across her legs and up her stomach, seeming to sear her flesh where the rod meets her hip. Elphaba digs her fingers as far into the table as she can in order to quell her body's urge to arch up again. She swears she can feel the pores in the metal beneath her fingers.

Frexspar slaps her once, hard across the cheek. Elphaba bites down on the belt; the leather tastes rancid, of old saliva and long-since-dried blood. The belt is a cautionary element, Elphaba knows, for before it, she nearly choked on her own blood after biting down too hard upon her tongue.

"One thing!" Frexspar is practically seething as he swipes the clear bottle from the stand, pouring a generous amount on the rag once more. "I ask of you one thing and even this you fail to accomplish! Must I do everything myself?"

Elphaba welcomes the rag being pressed harshly against her face. The darkness is far more accepting than the man scowling in revulsion above her.

* * *

><p>When she wakes the second time, Elphaba is alone in the lab. The pain in her hip has dulled considerably, but not to the point of being tolerable. There is never a time when she's not in some minor discomfort from one of Frexspars' trials. But today is far worse than anything she has endured before. Elphaba doesn't think she can even move.<p>

Like always, one strap of her bonds is undone; the rest remain in place. The rag lies soiled atop her chest. She tries to lift her free arm but the burning sensation that flares up along her side has it instantly crashing back down to the table. Elphaba screws her eyes shut, hoping to quell the tears threatening to flood her vision. The pain subsides just as quickly as it came but the sting left in its wake remains, ever pressing and suffocating.

Elphaba breathes in sharply. "This is for Oz," she whispers quietly to herself. If her father discovers even a_ hint_ of something from this procedure that could lead to a cure, it will all be worthwhile. Her suffering is not for naught. They can be free of _them_.

When her eyes open again she lets the tears roll down her cheeks.

Elphaba will endure these trials for the freedom of Oz's citizens because she knows they will not accept her without it.

* * *

><p>Some months later, hours after the sun has sunk beneath the city walls, Elphaba scribbles a few words down in her journal by the light of a candle. She's trying to remember the pages of Frexspar's lab notes she stole a glance at earlier. She scratches softly at the bandage wrapped tightly around her head. It's been itching for a while now but she's not too concerned about the wound. It was, after all, her fault.<p>

A storm the pervious night caused such a downpour that a few spots of the roof sprung leaks. At first it was negligible damage. Elphaba moved her small mattress out of the way to avoid the dripping water. But as the storm raged the leaks grew bigger until there was a small waterfall cascading down from her ceiling. Soaked, cold and in desperate want of someplace dry Elphaba headed down the stairs. She hoped to find the library unlocked but never made it quite past the second floor landing.

Her wet feet slipped out from beneath her, sending her tumbling down the last of the steps.

The next thing Elphaba remembered was waking up sprawled on the floor the next morning, head throbbing and a small puddle of dried blood pressed against her cheek. She quickly cleaned the mess before Frexspar woke. A trip to the lab supplied her with the bandages to wrap her head and an excuse to peek in Frexspars things. As Elphaba sat in the kitchen that morning, eating her small breakfast of toasted bread, Frexspar entered.

"What happened?" He had asked her.

Elphaba felt a surge of hope rush through her at his words. Was he concerned? Did he care? Why else would he have asked? Elphaba dared to look up at her father only to find him giving her a quizzical eye: the type he reserved to an animal after it did something particularly absurd.

Elphaba felt her throat tighten as she was trying to arrange the words inside her head. Frexspars once quizzical expression turned bitter as Elphaba finally found her voice. "I-I was running some t-tests," she said, not wanting to disappoint him further.

Again Frexspar raised his brow as he busied himself with making his meal.

Elphaba took it as a sign to continue. "In my room. This morning," She swallowed thickly; hoping the lie forming on her tongue would appease his mood. She hadn't really been running tests on herself but the bandage had to be explained somehow. In a way he wouldn't lose his temper over. "I, just w-wanted to see if I c-could replicate your trial from before. But I w-wasn't successful…. I apologize."

This morning is the first time in Elphaba's life that she's ever seen her father look pleased by something she's done. Except, he is pleased at her failure… her pain.

It is also during that morning that Elphaba decides her father should be the one with the bandage around his head. Why should her body suffer through trials meant to be undergone by someone with a semblance of connection to the Undead?

As far as Elphaba is concerned, the lack of a soul is the mark of an Undead. Green skin be damned.

* * *

><p>Elphaba is twenty-one and spends her birthday with her eye glued to a microscope in the lab while her father is out.<p>

She watches as some of her blood converges with that of a sample of Unmentionable. She wishes the microscope were more powerful. Perhaps then she can see what is truly happening. Right now, it just appears as though two separate red puddles are mixing together atop the glass slide. Nothing revolutionary… or any closer to a true discovery.

Elphaba sighs, leaning back from the instrument.

She needs to see closer.

She's missing something from a distance.

Elphaba looks to her father's reading glasses sitting a top the counter to her left. Perhaps the added benefit of some additional magnification may bring the blood closer to sight. She tries, but finds that the blood beneath the microscope still appears the same, if somewhat clearer now.

_Maybe two microscopes?_ Elphaba wonders, readjusting the glasses now perched on her nose. _I could double the magnification, extract the lenses_. There is a small tug at the corner of her lips at the thought and the further she thinks the larger the smile blooms.

Elphaba knows just what must be done.

She's on her feet before she realizes it, heading toward the cabinet of equipment. If she's correct in her assumption, destroying the instruments may be worth the trouble in the end.

Frexspar won't punish her for improvements; for something that could further his stalled work.

It takes her a few hours to dismantle the scopes and slide two lenses together in a new shell. But once it's complete and Elphaba's eye is back in place above the samples of blood, she realizes she's stumbled upon something incredible. For below on the glass plate Elphaba swears she can see flecks of green. Tiny, nearly insignificant specks of green but they are _there_ and she knows she cannot stop at just two lenses.

She must approach Frexspar with her proposal.

That night after he returns from Sermons, Elphaba meets him in the foyer, taking his coat with her head bowed respectfully. He leaves without acknowledgement and Elphaba has to hastily hang his coat upon the wall before catching up with her father's long strides. Once she does she clears her throat, trying to settle her nerves before they get the better of her… before they make a fool of her in front of the man responsible for her fate.

The man responsible for all her pains.

"Father?" Elphaba speaks clearly, voice soft. Frexspar makes no regard at having heard her, simply continuing on his path towards the den. Elphaba presses on anyway, undeterred. "I was hoping that perhaps you would…" she trails off feeling suddenly very intimidated as Frexspar comes to a stop. Her eyes immediately move to her bare toes. "T-that is to say given what I've d-discovered… maybe y-you could-"

"_Enough_," Frexspar groans as he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "For Oz sake just leave me in peace!"

"P-please father," Elphaba stutters, berating herself mentally for her pathetic tone of voice. "I've discovered the m-most remarkable thing!"

"I care not to hear of your _stupid_ findings." Frexspars says, opening the door to his den. He turns to Elphaba then, brow drawn low over his dark eyes. "Now leave, I have guests arriving soon."

He tries to slam the door shut but Elphaba knows this is her last shot. It is her last hope of getting those microscopes she desperately needs. Frexspar almost looks comically surprised by finding his daughters green foot stopping the door from closing entirely.

"I combined the lenses of the microscopes!" Elphaba rushes out in a single breath. She feels the pressure of the door upon her foot loosen, so she continues quickly, "The extra magnification has made something visible in the blood samples. I can't be sure of what but another lens may assist in making it clear."

He is silent for what feels an eternity to Elphaba. Her heart beats heavy against her ribs. Her breaths suddenly shallow.

She's never spoken so many words to her father, let alone words of obvious defiance.

But what would he think if he saw her discovery?

"_Leave_," he says finally, kicking her foot from its place. Elphaba stumbles back, the pain in her foot not nearly as present as the pain of losing her only hope.

The door is slammed shut in her face not a moment later.

* * *

><p>Elphaba feels numb to the entire ordeal as she makes herself a meager meal for dinner. When she's finished she doesn't even taste the sandwich as she eats it. In fact, she is so deadened to the world that she doesn't even realize the sky outside the windows has turned orange until she hears screams pierce the night air.<p>

Elphaba runs to the nearest window, alarmed at the height of the flames painting the sky near the city wall a few blocks away. There are screams again, followed by the crackle of bursting flames. Elphaba cranes her neck, trying to see what's happening, but from the first floor she can see nothing but fire.

Her sandwich lies forgotten on the counter as she races up the stairs to her attic room. There she presses herself against the window. The sight before her is unlike anything she could have imagined.

A hole, a gaping giant hole, has been punched through the containment wall. A steady, stumbling and bloodthirsty stream of Undead make their way through. Elphaba watches, paralyzed with fear as they quickly overtake a few of the Emerald Guards trying to keep them at bay. The wall of flames grows higher, fed by the remaining guards atop the wall. Pieces of the wall are being broken off, the large sections falling upon the heads of the Unmentionables below, killing them instantly and causing a slight ebb in the flow of more entering the city.

The guards are clearly outnumbered. There are just too many of those soulless beasts breaching their once-impenetrable defences. They'll be surely soon be upon her block, hungry for flesh.

Gunshots ring from the corner of her street and Elphaba leans closer, surprised to find the Wizard's Gale Force running toward the horde. Elphaba has never seen a Gale Force officer before, she only knows of their existence from the brief mentions of them she overhears when her father has guests over. They're the Wizard's best.

His own personal protection team is attending to this matter.

This must be dire.

That fact doesn't help to ease Elphaba's nerves.

The fires burn brighter, the heat beginning to warm the window. Elphaba thinks of her Nanny, of the way the flames flickered behind her body as she gave in to the Undead.

_No_, Elphaba says to herself, _as she saved me from meeting a similar end._

The Gale Force quickly disposes of the problem, slaying three to four Unmentionables with every swipe of their swords. Elphaba watches the grotesquely decayed bodies fall to the street and she continues watching as the Gale Force coat them in oil.

As the hundreds of Verdigris bodies ignite in flames, Elphaba can't help but think the same fate would meet her if she were ever to breach the walls of her own prison.

* * *

><p>Two weeks. That's how long it took before Frexspar wakes Elphaba by throwing a small wrench in her lap. At first Elphaba looks down to the tool, confused as she sits up upon her dingy mattress.<p>

"For the microscopes," Frexspar explains as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I expect it to be ready by dawn tomorrow."

And with that, he shuts her door once more, retreating back down the steps and leaving Elphaba more confused then ever.

She understands her father's odd behavior completely and without a doubt, once she steps foot inside the lab. There are microscopes of all sizes covering every countertop. Elphaba can't stop the smile that spreads across her lips as she gets to work.

* * *

><p>She completes it, of course. The ultimatum in Frexspars tone was clear. <em>Complete this task before dawn or you will be of no use to me anymore.<em> What she hadn't planned on was falling asleep in front of the microscope once she bolted on the last support clamp.

She is woken by a sharp yank of her shoulder, her body falls to the ground before she can catch herself. Frexspar stands above her, inspecting the creation. It's not perfect, Elphaba knows, but it works. Oz, does it ever work!

Frexspar busies himself with the new mechanics as Elphaba picks herself from the floor. She begins to brush some of the dirt from her dress when she feels a prick against her arm. When she looks up, Frexspar is holding a small blade, her blood coating the tip. He doesn't stop to look at her as he wipes some upon a fresh glass slide. Elphaba stands breathlessly beside her father, hand pressed tightly over her freshly opened wound.

It feels like a small eternity as he scrutinizes her blood beneath the new microscope.

Then he sits back and Elphaba watches, fascinated, as Frexspar grabs a straw from beside him, taking a drop of Undead blood out from the jar resting against the shelf above. He gently taps the drop of infected material upon the slide as well before slipping the samples beneath the scope. Elphaba unconsciously holds her breath as Frexspar lowers his face over the eyepiece. His focus upon what he's seeing remains unbroken until he backs away from the scope, pricks his finger with a sharp, discarded microscope piece, and lets a drop of his blood fall upon the slide beside his daughter's.

Elphaba is curious as to what he's doing; what he must be seeing! Frexspar backs away again, this time to scribble a note down in his journal. It's only then that he seems to realize Elphaba is still beside him. Elphaba lets out a breath as her father's body grows tense. The vein running along his neck seems to throb. "_Get out_." He growls.

And so Elphaba leaves without ever knowing what left her father so mesmerized.

* * *

><p>Elphaba lies awake that night wondering what her father could have seen. Some medical journals she had found upon his desk talked of orbs hidden within blood. Miniature life forces, they had called them. Perhaps that is what fascinated Frexspar so? The night before Elphaba had only gotten a chance to stick a corner of her rag beneath the scope before she succumbed to sleep.<p>

She also now thinks using the rag drenched in sleep draught to test the microscopes new power wasn't too brilliant of an idea in the first place.

Elphaba is determined to see for herself what has kept her father up so late.

After hours of listening she hears what she's been waiting for: the echo of his bedroom door closing far off in the Consulate.

She's up before the sound completely fades from the air. Once she is downstairs Elphaba wastes no time in setting herself up in front of her invention. The eyepiece is still warm from use and it moulds to her face as she peers down at the blood below.

Elphaba is absolutely astounded by the sight. Just as the journals had promised, small orbs. Green and shimmering orbs move about in the red liquid, their motions erratic. Elphaba slides the plate out, wondering which sample she's viewing. Frexspar has labeled the far corner with a 'U'.

The erratic movements now make sense.

Elphaba puts the plate aside, searching for the one with her own sample. She finds it nestled next to a slide labeled 'F' which Elphaba knows will be the one containing her father's blood. Curious, she takes his first. The orbs within his blood appear white in color. White and still. She takes her own sample next, ever careful as she slips it in place. Elphaba doesn't know what to feel as she observes the orbs within her own blood. They are almost identical to those of the Undead. Identical in every sense except that hers remain still like her father's.

Elphaba wonders, then, what would be the outcome of her own blood meeting that of the Undead. Frexspar seems to have come to the same conclusion as she finds a slide labeled 'U+E'.

The orbs are all moving frantically, all except one, which Elphaba watches closely. That is until an Undead orb overtakes her last remaining one. She doesn't trust what her eyes have seen. Fresxpar must have barely used any of her own blood. Elphaba makes her own slide, mixing equal amounts of each sample. She observes them from under the scope, watching as the frantic orbs of the Undead absorb her steady ones.

The 'E' can now be erased from the slide.

With that Elphaba realizes she could never be the cure… not if her own blood is so easily turned.

She is, as her Father has always said, just a green freak. A monstrous green freak.

* * *

><p>Elphaba has her arm in a sling. She is confined to her bed, too sore to move. This was Frexspar's punishment for having disobeyed one of his most important rules. In her upset of having found out that she is not the key her father has been searching for, Elphaba had forgotten to replace everything in the lab as she had found it.<p>

Frexspar made sure she wouldn't be touching anymore of his things for a long while.

A small loaf of bread rests on the table beside her but Elphaba isn't hungry. She feels weak, but the pain is welcome. She knows the truth: her father is only hurting her because with her invention has some the conclusion to all these years of trials.

So when he comes up with the rag, Elphaba is confused.

Elphaba shakes her head as Frexspar throws the rag to her lap. "There is nothing more to be done."

He doesn't listen though. He never does. Elphaba becomes frightened as he grabs a hold of her shoulder, hoisting her to her feet. She clenches her jaw tight to keep from crying out at the pain shooting through her broken arm. She stumbles after him, trying to keep up with his frantic pace as he leads her down the stairs, down to the lab.

This time he is the one strapping her to the table and Elphaba is so blinded with pain by now that she welcomes the relief of not moving anymore.

Her eyes are closed as she hears her father speak. "You are part of them, and the Unnamed God has no place for those without souls."

With those words all the pain pounding against Elphaba's bones comes to an abrupt halt. Because now, here, faced with the possibility of death, her aches seem entirely insignificant.

Frexspar approaches his daughter, face devoid of emotion and syringe in hand.

Elphaba pushes against her bonds, heart beating frantically against her chest. "I'll find you a cure!" she pleads. "Give me time, _please_!"

He grips onto her shoulder, forcing one part of her to be still: the part of her already broken by his hand earlier. Then his voice carries over Elphaba's ears, softer then she's ever heard her father speak before. "You'll burden me no longer."

Elphaba feels a scream rip through her throat as the needle pricks her skin.

The bulbs above explode, glass tumbling down upon the father and daughter. Frexspar drops the needle in his haste to cover his head from the sharp fragments. He falls back as the ground beneath his feet lurches.

Elphaba hasn't stopped shouting, her voice grows louder as the shelves begin to topple. Books come crashing to the floor, followed by bottle after bottle of chemicals and blood samples. Frexspar tries to scramble to his feet, barely dodging one bookcase, only to become trapped underneath the next. He screams in time with his daughter as a box from above collides with his head. He is instantly rendered unconscious.

Elphaba finally runs out of breath, inhaling deeply as her body comes to rest on the table. The surface is cool, calming her.

When she opens her eyes she's shocked by what she finds.

The lab is a disaster.

Her father lies beneath one of his larger bookcases.

She has no idea what has occurred.

Elphaba pulls at her binds, even more surprised to find they easily give way to her movement. The straps remain secured around her wrists and ankles, but the hinges of their connection to the table are destroyed, completely shattered.

Fear washes over Elphaba at the sight. There is nothing that she knows of which could do this… there is nothing which could snap metal so easily. Nothing and no one aside from the Wizard himself.

Elphaba makes her way to her father's side. She doesn't know whether to feel relieved or upset that he's still breathing. He is still alive.

But Elphaba is not like her father. She is not heartless. Using the last bit of strength inside her, Elphaba pulls the limp body of her father free from the collapsed shelves. She winces as her broken arm protests with pain. A few bottles roll free of the box beside her father's head as she settles his shoulder back to the floor. The bottles are nothing she hasn't seen before.

All except for one.

An odd green bottle, too ornate to be any ordinary chemical.

And quite unlike everything else in the lab, this bottle has no label.

Elphaba cringes as she reaches down to pick it up. A small amount of liquid swirls inside. Knowing that she doesn't have much time before her father awakes, Elphaba pushes her way towards where her microscope once rested. She finds it, thankfully still intact, protected from a nasty fall by some of Frexspar's journal pages. Elphaba doesn't bother with a slide as she pulls the stopper from the bottle and pours a drop against the plate.

She's surprised to find the chemical is green and smells distinctly of alcohol. Though not like any she's seen her father serving. Moving her eye over the scope, Elphaba feels her breath catch at the sight. Green shimmering strands seem to be dancing through the liquid chemical. It's unlike anything she's ever seen before. Oz, it's unlike anything she's ever read about before!

She quickly collects some of the blood from a reopened cut along her arm, letting it mix when the chemical below. Then Elphaba watches, amazed, as the strands seem to become absorbed by her green orbs.

There is movement behind Elphaba. Her father is starting to come to. She thinks to her rag, to the sleeping draught she could drug him with, but the lab is a disaster. She'll never find the bottle in time. She needs more time! Elphaba quickly turns back to the microscope and wipes the plate clean, grabbing an extra slide from the broken pile to her left as she rushes to her father's side. The gash on his forehead supplies the blood she needs. It takes her no time to drop some of the green chemical onto the slide before quickly sliding the mixture beneath the scope.

Yet, unlike her own orbs, the white of Frexspars do nothing as the green strands weave between them. Excited, Elphaba tries to find the sample of Undead blood. If her own blood absorbs the strands, and Frexspars does not, then what of the blood of the cursed? Is this chemical the key?

She finds the bottle, overturned and leaking against a pile of papers. Careful, so as to not let any drop onto her own cuts, Elphaba gathers a few drops to the tip of her glass slide. Frexspar groans as Elphaba mixes the green chemical with the blood, nearly dropping the slide in her haste to get it beneath the lenses.

The green erratic orbs absorb the strands and seem to grow even more agitated in the process.

"Sweet Oz," Frexspar's voice carries over to Elphaba and she quickly shoves her slides to the shelves behind the table, moving a few books over the area to conceal her discovery. "What happened?" he demands, unfocused eyes set in a glare toward Elphaba.

Elphaba pretends to busy herself with reorganizing the shelves. From the corner of her eye Elphaba notices the bottle still rest against the table. She gulps, reaching over and concealing it within her palm before answering, "There was an earthquake."

"This was no earthquake." Frexspar counters, pulling himself to unsteady feet. Elphaba glances over her shoulder, watching as her father clutches his head, agony written all over his face. She feels a small bit of pride knowing he's the one in pain for once.

"There was. I'm sorry if you were injured, father." Elphaba says not recognizing her own voice. Where is the stuttering? The almost meek tone? Elphaba thinks she sounded calm… assured even.

"You're _lying to me_." Frexspar spits, making his way toward Elphaba. She tries to move from his path but he lunges forward, grasping her by the shoulder, towering over her as she shrinks under the painful grip. "Tell me what happened…. What did you _do_?"

Elphaba keeps her eyes firmly planted to the floor as she answers, "I-I don't know."

"What's this?" He demands, forcing her palm open and taking the green bottle.

"It was on the floor!" Elphaba says quickly hoping to quell her father's rising temper. "I was just t-trying to find where it belongs."

Frexspars fingers loosen from Elphaba's shoulders, his eyes fixed upon the bottle. Elphaba swears she sees a flicker of regret in his gaze. "This belonged to Melena." He says softly.

Elphaba's eyes widen at the confession, surprised to hear her father speaking so…so openly. "It's lovely," Elphaba says.

"Tastes horrid," he replies, moving from Elphaba to collect some books from the floor. Elphaba believes he's speaking more to himself then to her. "She used to love this stuff and till this day I can't figure out why. She'd be intoxicated for days whenever she got a new bottle."

Elphaba can't believe he's still speaking to her. Especially when just moments before he was about to end her life. Suddenly recalling why they were in the lab in the first place, Elphaba puts some more distance between herself and her father. When her bare foot knocks against the back of the syringe, she freezes.

A bottle on a shelf explodes.

Frexspar whirls on Elphaba, eyes blazing. "What is going on in here?"

"The Unnamed God?" Elphaba offers without thinking first.

She sees him clench his fists, knowing if she were any closer they would be connecting with her face. "You better pray to him tonight, for it must be of his will that you live."

Elphaba has never been more thankful for her father's faith then she is in this moment. She nods, backing away further. "Yes, father."

"_Go_." He demands of her, turning away.

Elphaba leaves without another word.

She sneaks back to the labs later in the night hoping to find her slides, but instead finds the door bolted shut.

* * *

><p>She doesn't get to see them till months later when Frexspar wakes her with another rag. This one is white, clean.<p>

"There is still some blood on my floor." He explains in a monotone. "See to it that it's spotless by the time I return."

Elphaba does as she is commanded and heads down to the lab as Frexspar leaves to hear a sermon. Her slides are still where she hid them, untouched. Elphaba pulls them out, inspecting each one beneath the microscope.

The first is her own blood, it remains the same.

The second is that of the Undead.

The third is also that of the Undead.

Elphaba feels her brow furrow at the sight. She swore she hadn't mixed her father's blood with Undead, so how is it that there are two Undead samples now? Elphaba thinks another slide must have gotten slipped in with hers. She pushes the rest of the books aside but is troubled to find the shelf empty.

_There must be a mistake_, she thinks.

But as she considers, she realizes something important she hadn't taken into account. It's been months since she took the samples. Without a live body to thrive inside the orbs would have surely died… and it is only in death that the Verdigris thrive.

Elphaba feels light-headed all of a sudden as the truth forms before her eyes.

The green chemical, her mother's favorite drink… it is responsible for the Undead.

And what more, _someone _sold it to her mother. _Someone_ caused all of this. _Someone_ is responsible and _must _be stopped.

Elphaba realizes then that there is only one person she can go to.

She must inform the Wizard.


	4. The Rules of Kellswater Academy

**AN: **Last authors note before this ship truly sets sail here. :) As you've noticed the rating has been bumped up a notch. Violent, turbulent and sexual scenes ahead! This is after all a zombie apocalypse haha. Thanks for reading & leaving your thoughts for me thus far. You're all awesome for sticking with me and I hope you all enjoy the rest of the story! Expect an update every 3 or so days. Unless in the event of a zombie incursion... I would then suggest less reading and instead lots of cardio. ;)

**Chapter 4**

_The Rules of Kellswater Academy_

So far, Kellswater Academy is not living up to Galinda's expectations and that's only after a mere five minutes inside its shoddy gates. Where are the fit men marching in unison for no apparent reason, she wonders? The training instructors shouting commands? Oz, where are the _buildings_ even?

How much is this costing her mother again?

Galinda wonders if her mother enrolled her in the right Academy or if this is just one giant scam.

Academy is, to Galinda, just another refugee camp waiting to be overtaken by the Undead. Tents no higher than she is tall stand in a small cluster toward the far end of the grounds. She counts just six before tiring of counting the remaining scattered beyond. There are a few guards –correction, a few very _bored_-looking guards– standing just outside the makeshift entrance gates. Their uniforms are atrocious. From the ugly beige berets right down to the muddy-colored trousers. _Tight _trousers, she notes with a bit of a smirk as she assesses the backside to one of the more attractive specimens.

The sentry must sense her gaze because soon green eyes are locked on Galinda's, one immaculate brow raised in question.

A deep blush creeps over Galinda's cheeks upon realizing the watchman is most definitely a watch_woman. _The guard rolls her eyes, focusing her attention forward into the plains once more whilst Galinda keeps her own gaze rooted to the ground, thoroughly embarrassed.

She notices her once clean blue heels are now filthy with dirt. They are the flattest pair of shoes she owns and quite possibly the last. Galinda lets out a long breath as she looks to the pair of feet beside her. Pristine white heels, tan leggings. She can't help but notice one of the legs seems to be twitching of its own accord. Stealing a glance up, she is met with a pretty, albeit, terrified face. The girl's frantic blue eyes dart to Galinda, giving her a shaky smile before she appears to start _praying_… Yes, she's praying. Galinda is one hundred percent sure of that. But already? Is this girl serious?

Galinda is about to assess her other so-called classmates when a voice from behind bellows, "Welcome, new recruits!"

The small group turns, some gasping at the sight of the grotesquely large woman addressing them. Galinda simply offers a tilt of her head as she tries to decipher how exactly the mess of fabric the woman is wearing could be deemed in any way appropriate. Surely she must trip over the ends of her outfit when she walks? Or is it a very long tunic? Frock-type nightgown-ish thing?

It can't offer much mobility.

How does she kill Undead in it?

Galinda stops thinking about the outfit before it gives her a headache.

The woman speaks up again, voice high and accented weirdly (pompously, Galinda notes) on the vowels, "My name is Madame Morrible, and I am the headmistress of Kellswater Academy," she says with a flourish of an arm… At least Galinda thinks she just lifted her arm. It could have perhaps been a leg. A forced and very strained smile comes to Morrible's fish-like lips. "And before you ask, yes, I was once Headmistress of the women's college at the prestigious and now unfortunately befallen Shiz University."

A long pause.

"But that is neither to be mentioned nor spoken of after this! What is done is done and what is in the past _must _be forgotten," Morrible says with a distinctive growl to her tone. She straightens her posture once more, eyeing each and every person before her. Galinda can feel her fellow students withering under the intensity. She will not falter. She will not give in so easily. When Morrible's enormous grey eyes meet with the blue of Galinda's, the blonde keeps her gaze unwavering and clenches her fists tightly at her sides. Morrible almost smiles at Galinda's fortitude before she turns her eyes away to inspect her next victim.

"Excuse me, Madame _Horr_ible was it?" says a smug-looking teenager several feet to Galinda's right. He shares a sneer with his friend for a few seconds before it is wiped cleanly from his mouth in the blink of an eye. His eyes widen as his body becomes as rigid as a tree. He promptly falls face-first to the dirt below, body bouncing off the ground like a plank of dry wood.

Every eye is now on Morrible as she calmly lowers her hand back to her side. She clears her throat loudly. "Did I forget to mention I was also the head of the _sorcery_ department? Dear me, it must have simply _slipped _my mind."

Galinda thinks it was no mistake.

Just as she now believes she is _exactly _in the right place.

Morrible looks back to her recruits, pleased to find them all rendered speechless and practically itching to run for the gates. All except one, that is. The blonde. The only one staring back at her with candid awe.

Galinda raises her arm high in the air.

Morrible nods in acknowledgment.

"Galinda Upland, Madame," Galinda says with a slight curtsey. Morrible seems amused, if the raise of her brow is any indication. But Galinda will not be deterred from asking her question. She straightens, a grin spreading to her face. "Will you be instructing us in magic as well, Madame?"

Morrible laughs, and Galinda's smile falls, replaced with a furrowed brow. "I am done teaching hopeless children magic, my dear Miss Upland." Morrible says. "No one can ever hope be as powerful as myself, why should I waste the effort?"

With that answer given, Morrible instructs her recruits where to go next.

Galinda barely pays attention.

All she can think about as she steps into line is how she _will _prove Morrible wrong.

* * *

><p>What Galinda originally thought to be the Academy was merely a program to weed out those who, as Morrible put it, 'don't have what it takes'. Galinda had come to learn that there were people who would simply<em> not <em>excel in even the most basic of tasks, no matter how commonplace and trivial they were. Those people had no business being part of Morrible's school. Erecting a tent became an afternoon of pure torture. Starting a fire might as well require an army. There were many an injury, and many faked, during morning run sessions.

In fact, the smug boy from the first day died during the first week of basic survival training.

Galinda could only roll her eyes as they carried his body from the camp.

Had he bothered listening to their morning guide's instructions at all he would have known _not _to eat the purple berries.

Some boys were just too stupid to continue breathing.

But then, the very next day, the same fatal mistake was made by a girl. As she was carried away, their trainer decided it was best if they forgot everything he'd taught them and just not eat berries at all.

Hopeless is what he deemed them. Absolutely hopeless recruits who would no sooner know the difference between an Unmentionable and their own mother.

Galinda didn't take much offense to the insult, having no higher regard for her mother in the first place. The others became quite upset with their trainer, going so far as to try and poison his evening meal with rancid berries. They were ripe, of course, and only enforced in the trainer's mind what he already knew.

This bunch of students was by far the dumbest he'd ever encountered.

Galinda absolutely agreed.

By the second week of basic training, Galinda was beyond a doubt the star pupil of her class. She was also a bit peeved, since it didn't seem as much of an accomplishment considering the rest of her classmates were idiots. She wondered if the other training camps were any better and perhaps she'd been placed in the wrong one. This one was for the weak, the spoilt, and clearly the undeserving. No one seemed to even _care_ for their lessons, let alone spend the time practicing what was taught.

The others resented her for her apparent skill.

Galinda paid them no mind.

They're insults muttered as she passed were baseless, formed of jealously.

She had learned that they were all well-off like her, or at least like she _once_ was.

She was sitting beside a fire one evening when some decided to engage her in conversation. Galinda was busy fussing with her shoelaces. She do did hate the way they crisscrossed up her calf. Sure they were hideous things in general, giant black _clunky _hideous things if she was completely honest. But they were hers and she needed them to function. She figured there must be a way to make them at least somewhat more appealing. After discovering a system that left her with nice straight laces, she sat back against one of the tent supports, admiring her work. There was nothing she could do about the ugly brown trousers but at least now her feet wouldn't be so atrocious.

It was during her admiration that a small contingent of her classmates approached, asking if they could join her by the fire. (One she had made with her very _own_ hands, thank you very much, _without _the help of any of her useless classmates.) Galinda welcomed them, albeit somewhat begrudgingly. She hoped Morrible wasn't secretly spying on them, thus witnessing the fraternization She hasn't seen so much as a flash of the woman since the first day. But that didn't mean she couldn't be keeping tabs on her students. How would she ever convince Morrible to teach her magic if she kept such lousy company? She decided she would be polite, at least for three minutes, before feigning fatigue and excusing herself to bed.

Her tent-mate, the terrified girl she'd eyed on the first day, named Joule –'pronounced JEW-AL, like the kind my father used to sell before he was eaten'– smiled courteously at Galinda. "So Galinda… is it all right if I call you Galinda?"

Galinda resists the urge to roll her eyes instead shrugging, "It is my name after all."

"Right," Joule says, not quite knowing what to make of Galinda's apathy. She looks to the other two who joined her: another girl Galinda knows was the cousin of the girl who died (She-she or something) and a tubby guy (Wentel?), who acts as though he hasn't eaten for days. His eyes keep stealing glances to the few pieces of food remaining on the dinner plate beside Galinda. "So," Joule says by way of moving conversation along, smile back on her face. "I know we haven't gotten the chance to get to know you yet, what with you always running faster than the rest of us during morning session."

"And not to mention eating away from the rest of us during dinner session," the boy points out.

"I didn't come here to make friends," Galinda tells him, moving the plate behind her back and out of his sight completely. He frowns, sitting back with his arms folded over his massive chest. Galinda looks to her tent-mate, willing for her to understand what she is about to say, "So please, _please _for Oz sake stop trying to have girl-talk with me in our tent at night."

Joule's expression drops. "Ok, I can do that. No problem."

"What is your deal?" the other girl asks, glaring at Galinda. "Joule here is just trying to be friendly, the least you can do is return the sentiment."

"Please refer to my previous statement," Galinda replies, as she busies herself with collecting her things. She has decided that three minutes is two minutes too long.

"Do you even care about anyone besides yourself?" Joule asks, voice quiet. Galinda stops collecting her things to look at her tent-mate. There are tears starting to form in the girl's eyes and Galinda feels partially responsible but she also doesn't really care. "I refuse to believe you were always this cold. Not someone as pretty as you."

Galinda feels her patience running thin again. "What do my looks have _anything _to do with how I act?"

Wentel snorts. "You clearly think pretty highly of yourself Miss I-can-pick-the-right-berries-every time."

"Firstly," Galinda whirls on him, picking up her fork and pointing it at the boy in a threatening manner, "that insult is _horrendifying_. Please do yourself the favor of never speaking again lest we have to suffer another. Secondly, if you weren't so busy imagining your face stuffed inside a cooked pheasant's ass, you too could have figured out which berries to pick. And thirdly, sure I may be pretty, I admit it, but you all know nothing of what I've been through so don't you dare sit there and judge me."

"So tell us," Joule says, not the least bit deterred like the others seemed by Galinda's little rant. "Where were you born?"

Not 'where are you from?' or 'where do you live?' No, it's never 'where are you from' with people like this. Not with those born to the wealthy whom can still afford their secluded lifestyles; not for those who can still live in places like Mottica and forget the rest of Oz is in ruin. They only care to know where you were born because from there they can decide if you are worth their time or not.

Galinda knows she was born in Frottica. She knows it reeks of affluence and connections; of families who fled to safety, hidden behind walls of money. Galinda also knows money can't keep you safe forever…

She knows why Joule sits beside her, even though the girl seems clueless as to why she's here. All of them seem clueless… How could they not know? How could they think they were here for any other purpose then to learn to defend themselves?

They don't understand why she cares so much for the lessons they are taught.

Why she needs so badly to be the best.

She is doing this for herself as much as she is doing this for her father.

He never wanted her to learn magic.

But Galinda has the opportunity to do so. She has the chance to be something great. She will not let this possibility pass her by.

She knows what she wants and no one, _no one_, will stand in her way.

"My name is Galinda Upland, yes from the Upper Uplands" she says as she stands to her feet. She drops the fork down onto her plate, the food bouncing onto the dirt. Galinda smiles, pleased, as Wentel looks annoyed by the loss. "I was born in Frottica, raised in Mottica and watched my father die for me in the Vinkus. I won't be letting another Verdigris get within ten paces of me after I am through with this school _just_ like I won't be letting any of you either because I will not be letting _anything _or_ anyone _stop me from getting what I want."

And with that, she turns on the heels of her boots and leaves.

They won't be wasting her time any further.

* * *

><p>Galinda is the only one of the new recruits to pass basic training. She also passes with the highest of marks. The highest Morrible has seen in years. So naturally Morrible decides to personally escort the short blonde to the true Academy just a ways up the creek. She likes delving into the minds of her students, figuring out how to play to their strengths and exploit their weaknesses. But this girl is different.<p>

She almost reminds Morrible of a younger version of herself.

She watches Galinda from across the plush carriage they ride in. She notices the way the girl keeps her gaze focused out the window, eyes always on the horizon. It is as if she's searching for something just beyond reach.

Morrible wonders what she must be thinking but she can't get a read. A conversation segue is in order. She musters a smile to her lips and says pleasantly, "Already on the lookout for Unmentionables, my dear?"

Galinda turns to Morrible, straightening her posture as she gives a shake of her head. "No Madame, just thinking is all."

Morrible hums in acknowledgment. "Care to share?"

Galinda stays quiet for a moment, eyes lingering on Morrible's. "Why would you think I'd be a waste of effort?"

_Ah, yes_, Morrible thinks to herself. Of course this was a matter of her magic. She recalls Galinda's awe from the month previous. No other recruit has ever seemed inspired by her powers. If anything, they have the exact opposite effect on her students. "In all my time at Shiz I've never had _one _student who could impress me. What makes you believe you'd be any different from them?"

"Because learning magic is all I've ever wanted." Galinda answers simply and with conviction. She leans forward over her lap, closer to Morrible and says. "I _will_ be different Madame. I _won't _let you down."

"As if I haven't heard those sentiments before," Morrible says with a roll of her eyes. She's heard those words hundreds of times before from her students at Shiz, but _never_ from her students at the Academy. Galinda sighs, leaning back against her seat. Then it happens again; Morrible doesn't know where it comes from, but she sees that resemblance to herself sitting before her. She takes pity on Galinda Upland. "I will tell you this: _if_, and I do mean _if_, you excel during your time at my Academy and _if_ I deem you suitable for promotion to the Gale Force, only _then_ will I consider, _perhaps_, giving you a brief lesson or two."

Galinda's smile is so bright and so large that Morrible fears the girl may start squealing at any moment. But again she is surprised as Galinda reels in her enthusiasm and gives a grateful nod. "Thank you, Madame," she says respectfully, voice absolutely calm. "I will be sure to do you proud."

Morrible thinks that one of her students may actually live up to their word for once.

* * *

><p>That Spring Galinda stands in the archery range, bow held in front of her with the arrow poised to fire. There's a bird chirping in the tree beside her, its shrill cry an unwelcome distraction. She wants to shoot it down, but the bird is the least of her problems at the moment. She hasn't excelled in Archery like the other students. Not now that she is classed with the best. It's taken her months to even hold the damn bow properly, and she still curses whenever she feels her fingers slip. It's currently lunchtime for her squad. Instead of eating with her fellow classmates, she is out on the range practicing. On the ground, beside her quiver of arrows, there is a plate with a barely eaten sandwich. Her stomach grumbles in protest and she tries to ignore it, focusing her attention to the target ahead.<p>

Blue eyes are set on the piece of paper tacked to a wooden stand a dozen or so yards along in the field. She tries not to let her eyes wander to the small wall of hay behind her target… especially to her arrows poking out at odd angles between the bits of straw.

Galinda hates that she's such a poor shot.

She takes a deep breath as she squares her shoulders and pulls slowly back on the arrow. Holding the air in her lungs, Galinda lets the arrow go, watching as it sails high over her target, impeding itself in the hay.

"Arghh!" Galinda groans, slamming her bow to the ground. That had been her worst shot yet.

"_That's _an interesting technique," a voice, distinctly male, and distinctly amused says from behind.

Galinda's eyes narrow as she turns to the man. The first thing she notices is the infuriating smirk gracing his lips. The second is that he's tall. And he's too handsome for his own good! She hates that she feels her cheeks flush as the man steps forward. She watches as his smirk grows into a genuine smile and he brushes some of his brown hair back from where it rests across his forehead. He points down to Galinda's bow with a raised brow.

"No," she says with a shake of her head as she quickly picks it up, "I don't require any assistance, _thank you_."

"Oh, I have no doubt of that," the man chuckles as he picks the plate off the ground instead. He holds it up to Galinda. "I was actually wondering if you were going to finish this? You see, roast beef is my favorite and I was told a rather gorgeous young lady had swiped the last one."

Again Galinda feels the heat rise on her cheeks. "Have it," she growls, turning her attention back to the target before this _new _distraction keeps her from her goal.

He doesn't leave, of course. He just keeps leaning against the tree, chewing on her sandwich, watching her as she misses shot after shot. Galinda can feel his eyes on the side of her face as she tries not to let her frustration show. She wishes he would just say what he wants and be done with it so he can go and leave her in peace.

She almost jumps when she hears his voice again, muffled by his mouthful of food. "You know…" he trails off, swallowing the bite before speaking once more. "Your shoulders are a bit tense."

Galinda eyes him in contempt.

The man raises a hand in defense. "Not that anything is wrong with them! They are very nice shoulders from what I can tell," he says quickly, disarming smile back in place. "I just want so badly to see you find your mark. You're Galinda right? I believe we have some lessons together, Dr. Dillamond's History of Ozian Combat?"

Galinda scoffs but says nothing. Dr. Dillamond's class is the only one she hasn't bothered to do extremely well in. She is top of her year in nearly everything aside from Archery (she just needs more practice is all) and History (she could be practicing her archery instead). What was it Morrible had told them once? 'What is in the past _must _be forgotten.' Galinda didn't understand why a history class was offered when it clearly went against one of Morrible's principles. And besides, the old Goat can never seem to pronounce her name quite right. She doesn't know how many times she's had to correct him that it is said with a 'guh!'

"You could nod," the man says with a chuckle. Upon Galinda's lack of response he adds, "Or slap me. That option seems more likely in your case."

Galinda doesn't know what finally makes her lower her bow. She doesn't know if it's his effortless charm or the thought that he's the only one she's noticed who seems to pull off the hideous uniforms. Either way she gives him a slight nod, "Yes, we do have the class together."

The man's face seems to light up at her words. Galinda feels like she _should _probably feel bad about not knowing his name, but she can't seem to dredge up an ounce of care at the moment. He obviously knows her name but she can't even begin to imagine what his might be.

"For a second there I thought you might actually take that second option," he says, moving closer to her. "The name's Fiyero."

_Of _course_ it is_, Galinda thinks. "Nice to meet you," she says as an awkward pause follows.

Fiyero seems not to notice as he moves to stand behind Galinda, surprising her as he places his hands a top her shoulders. "Sorry!" He apologizes, giving her muscles a slight squeeze. "I realize we've just met and this may seem forward of me but please trust me, I am only trying to help."

For the second time that day, Galinda doesn't know what comes over her, but she allows Fiyero to stay and continue kneading her shoulders. A different heat settles in her gut at his touch. She knows the feeling well; it was the same one that crept up on her that time she'd kissed a girl. Not as strong as then but it feels good all the same, she thinks.

"Relax," Fiyero says, voice soft and low. Galinda melts a bit at the sound. "When you're tense it doesn't help your focus. Try bringing your bow up now."

Galinda does as instructed, her bow raised in the correct position in front of her. She strings her arrow back as Fiyero brushes his hands down her upper arm. She tries not to shiver. It feels nice being close to someone again.

Better than nice.

"Relax," he whispers again, breath brushing against the hair tucked into the ribbon behind her neck. She suppresses the tingles threatening to roll through her body. He lets go only when he feels the muscle in Galinda's arm give just the right amount. He takes a step back as she takes a shot, her arrow finding the paper instead of the hay bales behind it. "Perfect!" He exclaims.

Galinda scowls at him. The shot is anything but perfect; she's completely missed the center of the target. "Barely," she mutters reaching down to pick up another arrow.

Fiyero doesn't hear her though; he continues to lavish her with praise. He finally grows silent as she readies another shot, this one finding its mark near the other.

"You're a natural now… though you may want to widen your stance a bit," Fiyero offers, once again leaning back against the tree. "It'll help your balance."

"How is it you know so much about this?" Galinda asks, picking up her last arrow.

Fiyero grins, "I'm a prince actually, we're just born gifted with these types of skills."

Galinda rolls her eyes, "Seriously though. Did you have training before Academy?"

"I told you," Fiyero says. He taps his chest once. "Prince."

Galinda raises a brow at him.

"I swear I am telling the truth," he says, laughing. "If you don't believe me, you can even look up my records in Morrible's office. I'm a bona fide Winkie Prince."

"Then why are you here? Why bother with Academy?"

Fiyero's grin slips as his eyes turn serious. "Why is anyone here?"

Galinda accepts his question for the truth that it holds. She doesn't answer, knowing full well he doesn't expect her to anyway. She takes her last shot, pleased to find her arrow closer to the center of her target.

Fiyero whistles long and low in admiration. "You're going to make a great Gale Forcer one day, you know."

"I don't want to be just another Gale Forcer under the Wizards command," Galinda tells him as they head across the field to collect her arrows. "I want to be _beside _him, as his apprentice."

"You will," Fiyero says and for some reason Galinda believes the sincerity in his tone. "Since it seems we've progressed this new-found friendship to confession time I believe I have to fess up to one of my own now," he smiles as he hands a few arrows to Galinda. She nods for him to continue. Fiyero runs his hands through his hair once more in a move which Galinda will come to learn happens only when he is nervous. For now she thinks he's being coy. "I've been watching you actually, for a while now," he admits.

Galinda laughs. "Stalking me, huh?"

Fiyero's once tense stance seems to relax at hearing the jest in her tone. He gives Galinda a small smile. "No, nothing to that extent. Prince, remember? We have some values."

Galinda finds herself laughing again. She doesn't remember the last time she's laughed this much.

Fiyero smiles down at her as they make their way back towards the barracks. "There is just something about you that I find… compelling. I'm going to be forward again, so feel free to slap me if I say anything out of line," he says, glancing back over toward Galinda for the okay – which she gives– before continuing. "You're beautiful, Galinda. I'm sure you hear it every day and from men far less accomplished then I. But I've come to admire your ambition even more. I wish I could care even a fraction of the amount that you do for this place. Confession?"

Galinda looks up at Fiyero as he comes to a stop just outside the entrance to the female quarters. She can see the earnestness in his eyes as he silently urges her to let him continue. She decides to be the one making the bold move this time. Her hand reaches out, touching his forearm just barely, lingering for just a moment longer then it should. Fiyero's shoulders relax at the soft touch and Galinda feels that warmth in her belly once more. "I'm listening," she says.

Fiyero smiles, albeit with sadness. "I was sent here by my family. I haven't exactly been son of the year."

Galinda doesn't know what possesses her to say what she does next, but she knows where the words originated and if they hold true for their owner then perhaps they can hold true for Fiyero as well. "What is done is done and what is in the past must be forgotten."

She doesn't believe it, of course, but she will pretend to after she sees how happy it makes Fiyero to hear it.

* * *

><p>Galinda doesn't know why she tells him her story. Perhaps it was because she could no longer suffer through his weeks of prodding and the countless questions snuck into their otherwise friendly conversations. When she thinks back on it, she still can't pinpoint the exact feeling that spurred her to do it. It could have been attraction just as easily as it could have been a return of favor, a simple way of showing gratitude for teaching her archery; for bringing her yet another step closer towards Morrible and magic. She remembers his easy smile, the way his eyes were patient, waiting for her to spill just a bit of information about the girl he'd come to admire so openly. Galinda's never had the attention of someone quite so attractive and not to mention impressive. A Prince! Her mother would never let her hear the end of it if she didn't engage him in conversation.<p>

Besides he is cute and harmless.

She's done this before.

She's played this game.

So she tells him why she's at the Academy and soon the why leads to what, as in what killed her father, which leads to who and before Galinda knows it they're sitting on the grass sharing tales as if they've known each other all their lives. Well, Fiyero does most of the talking really but it doesn't bother her in the slightest. Galinda knows the feeling she gets when she's around Fiyero shouldn't be happening. Not whilst under Morrible's watchful eye.

Rule 1 of Kellswater Academy: Absolutely no relationships between students.

But Galinda feels comfortable when she's with him, more so then she's ever felt with anyone else. It's easy to let her guard down around him. Easy to allow a touch to linger here and a hug to go beyond friendly there. They're careful though, knowing they're growing closer to an end that could surely ruin his chance at redemption with his family and her chances for a future with the Wizard.

Galinda feels the pressure more than Fiyero. The very thought of anything happening between them keeps her up late most nights. Oz, she's even visited her mother on several occasions just to distract herself from her own thoughts. Edlyn is always a wonderful person to vent her frustrations upon, albeit in a more vocal medium. All their meetings quickly degrade into arguments over the most petty of things.

Galinda's hair ribbon is too dirty.

When was the last time she bothered to put on a bit of mascara?

Doesn't anyone have standards anymore!

Her mother lives and works as a servant in Morrible's home. It's a place where she can be safe and yet kept far from Galinda's life. Galinda only visits for the sake of letting out her frustrations over the Fiyero mess. She always leaves feeling tired, voice sore, and ready to sleep for eternity.

Lurelinemas is almost upon Oz when Galinda ventures to Morrible's home late one afternoon. Fiyero nearly kissed her that morning. Kissed her! And she would have let him had it not been for the blessed alarm that sounded, startling him. It was just a drill but Galinda had never been more thankful for an interruption in her life. What if they had kissed? What would become of them then? They couldn't actually carry on a relationship.

She'd be in direct defiance of the biggest rule of them all!

Morrible would surely throw her to the depraved streets outside the gates.

She'd lose her only chance at magic, just like that. Gone.

All because Fiyero can't keep his lips in check.

She slapped him and ran off, of course.

Oz, she needs to have a good shouting match to get this all out of her system. Galinda is almost looking forward to seeing her mother. She walks up the back steps to the kitchen, knocking louder than is polite. Her mother answers, disapproval already etched upon her face.

"_Honestly, _Galinda," she berates her daughter whilst ushering her inside quickly. "Where have your manners gone now?"

"I need a tea," Galinda groans, sitting down in one of the chairs beside the small kitchen table.

Her mother stands, watching her daughter with hands poised upon her hips.

Galinda rolls her eyes. "Please. I need a tea, _please_."

"Slightly better," Edlyn says, keeping one eye on her daughter while she goes to make the drink. "So, what happened now?"

"Fiy-" Galinda almost starts to say Fiyero's name but stops when she remembers her mother knows nothing of the man. Galinda is careful to keep things private. Oz knows her mother is one of the biggest gossips she's ever known. Sometimes she wonders why she even bothers coming to her mother at all. Instinct? Easy target? She sighs and thanks Edlyn as she hands her the steaming cup. "Dagger throwing is just must harder than I anticipated."

Galinda leaves once she's finished her tea, making her usual empty promise of visiting her mother soon.

* * *

><p>They're both drunk when it finally happens. And in the back of the Philosophy Club in town no less! Galinda feels dirty but her head is buzzing so pleasantly and Fiyero is such a good kisser that she doesn't care. Fiyero's friends are off in their own worlds, eagerly partaking in far more risqué activities with the locals of the Club. He had to bribe Galinda with the promise of a quiver full of the finest Vinkus arrows to even get her to think about coming along with him tonight.<p>

Being here with her now he can't imagine anything greater.

Galinda pulls away first, panting as Fiyero's lips slide down her neck. Galinda feels a moan escape as she straddles his lap tighter. It's been so long since she's been with someone and no one cares about them, not here. Fiyero's lips are back on hers as he grabs onto Galinda, holding her against him as he stands to drunken feet. Galinda lets her head loll back, giggling as he crashes them into a wall, then another wall, before finally making it to a door.

The room is dark and it smells of sex but Galinda just doesn't care anymore. She just wants to feel good and Fiyero is making her feel good, so it's all okay right? They fall to the dingy sofa, a mess of limbs. Her mind is a swirl of dark colors and spinning tea lights. She lets him crawl atop her and pull her skirt up around her hips. She feels him clumsily pushing her panties aside, not bothering with the arduous task of trying to pull them down her legs. She doesn't recall when he let his own underclothes fall from his hips but she knows they're gone when she feels the hard length of him press against her heat. Her body instinctively responds, hips rolling up against him. Fiyero lets out a low moan as he slides deep within her.

Galinda thinks it feels wonderful that for once she's finally with someone who cares for her.

Yet for the life of her, even in her drunken haze, Galinda realizes she doesn't care for him in the same way. As he thrusts above her she feels her mind growing sober. The feelings she assumed would be consuming her now, all that passion she imagined, the lust craved, the pure need... they all fail to transpire. She feels nothing building in her gut aside from shame. She always imagined after bedding Fiyero she'd feel… better somehow. She can't put into words the right feeling but she knows she doesn't have it with him.

She just feels tired. Wanted but tired.

He whispers slurred words of adoration across her breasts, pressing his body as close to hers as is physically possible.

Galinda's mind suddenly sharpens. She realizes now what's clearly happening is a mistake. A grave, _fatal _mistake.

"Fiyero," Galinda says, pushing hard up on his chest. He gives one final grunt, collapsing atop her before rolling happily aside and clumsily falling to the fitly floor beside the sofa. She can't believe he's done with her already, but then again he is quite out of it. Galinda quickly readjusts herself, scowling down at Fiyero as she tells him, "This can't happen again. We can't be together, you _knew _this couldn't happen!"

"Naahh," Fiyero says, grinning stupidly, still in a euphoric post-orgasmic state. "We're perrrfect togefpher…"

Galinda thinks he could be right… Logically they're perfect. He's the perfect man, carries the perfect pedigree, perfect body, perfect manners. What more could she want?

Galinda thinks of magic; she imagines what having magic must feel like. It must be like the elation she feels when she lands the perfect shot, or how incredible she felt kissing that girl on her fifteenth birthday.

It must make one want to _live_.

She realizes she doesn't feel that when she's with Fiyero.

"We can't do this," she says, standing quickly and fighting to come up with a viable excuse. "Not when I need to stay on Morrible's good side. I'm sorry, Fiyero."

"Wait!" he shouts, grabbing onto her wrist before she can leave. When Galinda turns she's surprised to find his eyes so suddenly clear. So heartbroken. "So that's it then? Thanks for the fuck but I have _better _things to worry about? Do you not care for me at all?"

"I do care for you. But this is different," Galinda says, sitting back down beside him. She tries to think of how to explain her feelings to him… How she enjoys his company, adores his jokes during grueling sessions, wants his friendship...but that she cannot _be_ with him; not like this. Despite her reluctance to disobey the rules of Academy, she'd secretly hoped that maybe she could return his obvious affections because that would be wonderful, wouldn't it? To graduate and spend her life with someone who adores her just as much as she does them? But as she looks at him, watching him pull his pants up, and not bothering to look at her, Galinda knows that was never a possibility.

She can't return his affections.

She's not like Fiyero. She does not wear her heart openly upon her shirtsleeves, ready to share with whomever wishes for a piece. Flirting is one thing but to actually care for another enough to love them? Out of the question. Love is a distraction and she cannot afford distractions, no matter how charming they might be. Love is what has killed everyone she's ever cared for. Her Ama, her father…

They both died so she could escape… So _she_ could live.

Galinda doesn't want another name added to her list. No one is worth letting close to her heart. Not even Fiyero. In another life, one not plagued with Verdigris, maybe she could have… But looking at him now she knows that's a lie. She will never love him the way she knows he deserves to be.

It's not his fault.

And it's so much more than magic.

She can't explain it all to him now though, not after what they've just done. She sighs, and settles on telling him only half the truth, "You know I've only ever wanted one thing."

"No, I get it," Fiyero snaps, as he hastily stands to his feet. "Galinda can't afford to want two things at once, let alone allow someone to stand in her way of getting what she wants _more_."

He leaves then, slamming the door on his way out.

Galinda feels tears prick at her eyes. She leaves as well, before the sting of holding them back can burn at her conscious much longer.

* * *

><p>Galinda goes to her mother the next night. She can't believe she allowed herself to have sex with Fiyero<em>. <em>She's lost her only friend because of a stupid drunken mistake. A fleeting adolescent dream. She knocks on the back kitchen door, this time politely. It is, after all, after hours. A plain, dark-haired girl, about her age, answers the door. A deep blush blooms across the girls face when she sees Galinda before hastily bowing and opening the door further.

"I'm sorry for the delay Miss Galinda, please do come in," she says, wringing her hands inside her apron. Galinda enters, surprised by the timid girls husky voice but not at all surprised by the sudden addition to the household staff. She always knew her mother would make a lousy servant; it was about time Morrible acquired some _actual _help. Though the jittery, nervous, girl before her seems no more useful than Edlyn. "Would you care for anything?"

"No, thank you," Galinda says, taking a seat in her usual chair. She watches as the girl keeps her eyes glued anywhere but in Galinda's direction. Now she's curious. "May I ask who you are though?"

The girl looks startled by the question as she nervously wipes some dishes by the counter. She looks to Galinda, green eyes wide. "I-I am no one Miss. Just a girl hoping to p-pay my way to becoming a stu-stu-student here. Morrible was so kind as to off-offer me this role."

"_Very_ kind," Galinda agrees.

The girl looks behind her, as if checking for someone before turning back to Galinda, smiling brightly. "Morrible says you're her best student."

Now Galinda is the one having heart palpitations. She feels her very breath still at the news.

The servant girl carries on, voice soft but full of admiration as she says, "I can only dream of being half as great as you one day."

Galinda grins, shrugging, before she asks, "Do you know if my mother is around?"

The girl nods, still smiling as she points up the back stairwell. "She's in her room. Would you like me to fetch her?"

"No, that's all right. Thank you…." Galinda trails off, hoping to catch the girl's name.

"Arria," the servant supplies readily.

"Arria, pleasure to have met you," Galinda smiles. The girl's face reddens more as she turns back to her work. Galinda watches her for a moment, eyes lingering over the girls thin frame before she forces her legs into motion and heads up the stairs.

Edlyn opens her bedroom door before Galinda can even knock. She pulls her daughter inside quickly, shutting the door behind her.

"Oz, Momsie, what has gotten into you tonight?" Galinda asks, more amused then concerned by her mother's odd behavior.

"I am fine, but have you heard the news?" Edlyn says, practically squealing with delight.

Galinda sighs; she knows she cannot escape the gossip soon to be spewed into her ears. She sits down on her mother's small bed just in case this may take longer then the few seconds she's willing to spend listening. "No, Momsie," Galinda says in a monotone voice. She waves her hand lazily as she lies back against the mattress. "_Do _tell me."

Edlyn is far too excited by what she plans to share to bother reprimanding her daughter for the sarcasm. She launches into her news: "Morrible is preparing for the _Vinkus Royals _who are to be paying a visit shortly!"

Galinda resists the urge to sit up in shock; instead she remains in her sprawled position, hoping her feigned indifference will not spark suspicion in her mother.

"Did you know their son is in your training class?" Edlyn asks, sitting beside her daughter.

Galinda shakes her head, "No, I didn't."

"Well, now you do!" Edlyn says, still giddy. She brushes some of the hair from Galinda's forehead. Galinda tries not to flinch and the seemingly innocent display of affection. "You must win his favor Galinda."

This time Galinda doesn't hesitate as her body shoots up from the bed. "_What_?"

"Oh, don't pretend as if you didn't hear me, Galinda. You need to win his favor. He can be our ticket out of this entire ordeal!" Edlyn exclaims, voice hushed so as to not alert Morrible. "You won't have to attend Academy anymore Galinda. You can simply marry him and we'll be set!"

"Popsicle would not have wanted me to quit and especially not over some _boy_," Galinda reminds her mother. "Besides Morrible has promised to teach me magic. I cannot leave now."

Edlyn rolls her eyes. "Magic is not going to win you a Prince. Now stop fighting me on this, we need to strategize a plan."

"A plan for what, exactly?" Galinda shouts.

"Not so loud!" Edlyn swats at Galinda's arm, shushing her. "A plan for your courtship of course. It will have to be discrete. Morrible can not know of the affair."

Galinda feels disgusted. "And by court you mean _seduce_. Why don't you just sell my virginity while you're at it, _mother_."

Edlyn slaps her daughter across the face. Galinda feels the sting along her heated skin and wills herself not to cry. Not in front of her mother. Not over a silly woman's even sillier plans of elevating her place in society. Because that is what Galinda knows this ultimately is. A way back in for Momsie dearest.

"Don't pretend that I don't know what you've _done_," Edlyn hisses. "And if the Prince finds out of your… _past intimacies _you can kiss your chance of happiness goodbye."

Galinda wants to say so many things to her mother: so many spiteful, hurtful things in retaliation. But she can't find the words. She can't find the words because her throat has closed up. She stands, pushing her mother aside as she rushes from the room and straight out to the back entrance. Only once she's outside in the cool air does Galinda let out the long shaky breath she was holding. She wants a drink. Or five. _Yes five should do_, she thinks. A sob forces its way out of her chest, tears quickly following. No amount of liquor will be enough to make her forget tonight.

Galinda feels a slight tap on her shoulder. Behind her stands Arria, eyes expressing utmost concern. There is a small rag held loosely between her fingers. "It's clean, I promise," Arria says softly. "Please don't cry…"

Galinda goes to take the makeshift tissue from the girl's hand but as their fingers brush she stills. That same feeling of warmth pools in her gut, the one she used to get with Fiyero... but this one is much stronger. Her feet bring her a step closer to Arria, the girl's sweet scent overwhelming her. She can't pinpoint what it is, but it makes her feel good. It makes her forget why she was crying in the first place.

And if she can't have a drink...

Galinda needs to forget what her mother said; she needs to forget the night in the Club...

She needs a distraction.

Galinda moves closer to the girl, resting her hands along Arria's hips, guiding them both slowly backward. The servant's eyes widen at the touch and before Arria knows what's happening Galinda is kissing her. The servant is surprised at first, having never kissed another soul before. Let alone that her first kiss is now happening with a girl. But this isn't any ordinary girl. This is Galinda Upland, the girl she is striving to be one day. So Arria kisses her back, trying to match Galinda's ignited passion.

Galinda feels the girl's tongue shyly begging entrance to her mouth and she can't help but let out a low moan at the feeling. She moves them quickly to the wall, kissing down Arria's jaw. Galinda feels a rush of adrenaline pump through her veins at the sounds escaping the servants throat. She feels like she's running; running clear across Oz. She never felt this rush with Fiyero. It was easy with him, simple mechanics. This is fast; this is making her mind erupt.

Arria whispers her name and Galinda knows she needs more contact. She moves her lips back up to Arria's, connecting their mouths once more. The girl is taller, but not by much. Galinda leans down, their lips never once detaching as she lifts one of Arria's legs over her hip. She doesn't even think as she slips her hands up beneath the servant's dress. Arria whimpers, pressing herself further against Galinda, her nails digging into the back of Galinda's shirt. She gasps, out of pain or pleasure, Galinda does not care as she slips a finger easily past the girl's underwear and deep inside her.

Underneath the half moon on Morrible's back porch one girl loses her virginity to another while the other prays the moment erases everything from memory.

* * *

><p>Dillamond mysteriously vanishes some weeks later and Galinda secretly celebrates whilst some of her other third-year classmates (Fiyero included, she notes with a roll of her eyes) try to form a search party. Whilst they comb the outlying forests around the lake at night, Galinda continues to see Arria. She must admit, at first the girl's adoration and near-idolization were a bit annoying, not too mention Arria's is far too soft and innocent to ever make it at Academy. <em>But my Oz is she talented with her tongue<em>, Galinda muses. She relishes their evenings together, _especially_ after a particularly arduous day.

It's nice being wanted again, knowing emotions are not at stake and especially knowing there could be no repercussions for her activities.

Rule 1 of Kellswater Academy: Absolutely no relationships between students.

Arria is definitely no student.

Their affair continues for a few short weeks until Galinda's mother catches them sharing a goodnight kiss on the back porch.

Disgusted by the display, Edlyn grabs Arria by the back of her neck, dragging her off Galinda.

"Wha?" Galinda breathes as her eyes finally focus and she sees her mother holding Arria painfully by the girls dress collar. Edlyn's eyes are blazing, nostrils positively flaring. Galinda crosses her arms over her chest. "So you've caught us, big deal."

"Big deal? _This_, this is who you are ruining your chance with the _Prince_ for?" Edlyn hisses, pushing Arria aside. The servant quickly ducks back inside the home, knowing not to get between the Upland women. "A girl, Galinda. _A girl_!"

Galinda shrugs, "She's not a student so technically I haven't broken any rules."

"It's abhorrent!"

Galinda keeps her expression as stoic as possible, her breathing even, holding back angry tears. "It was meaningless anyway," she says with a mask of indifference. She tries to keep her hands still as she begins to leave. "Good night, mother."

"Oh no!" Edlyn screeches, grabbing Galinda by the wrist and spinning her back around. "You will not walk away from me so easily. You think you were being clever? Skirting Morrible's rules? What do you think she'd have to say if she knew what you were up to with her servant, a _female _servant no less."

"As I said," Galinda smirks, "I haven't _broken _any of her rules."

"Then I will tell her _otherwise_," Edlyn growls. "What of her rules then? She won't be so accommodating when she learns of your affair with a fellow _cadet_."

Galinda feels her entire body go cold as rage slowly builds from within. She clenches her teeth, speaking slowly, "You wouldn't dare because you'd be _thrown out with me_."

"Court Fiyero and I'll forget this _incident _ever happened."

* * *

><p>They haven't spoken for months until they're forced together as partners during a weather drill in Morrible's forest beside Kellswater Lake. By now Galinda is adept with a bow but much prefers the ease of kill she gets with her daggers. They're instant, and when faced with Verdigris death, they're much faster then fumbling with arrows.<p>

Guns are prohibited of course. Too loud. You'd be surrounded by Undead by the time you'd need to reload.

For this drill Morrible has turned up the heat. Fiyero strips his shirt off after only the first few minutes, stuffing the material into his survival pack behind his back. Galinda wishes she could be so bold to do the same but knows he'd be distracted if she did. It is obvious he still cares for her if his offering her water from his canteen every few moments is any indication.

She turns his offer down for the tenth time as they come to rest along a few of the shadier trees. Galinda thinks back to her mother's demand. It would be so easy to seduce him right now.

But this is Fiyero. The only man in this Academy, nay, the only _person_ she trusts with her life. The only one who can keep up with her during laps. The one who passes her silly (and mostly lewd) drawings during Dillamond's lectures. The one who is always making sure she eats when she's up late studying or impaling the wooden dummies in the gymnasium.

He's her best friend.

Her _only_ friend, really.

Or once was… Before that night in the Philosophy Club anyway.

Maybe they could make things work again. She could apologize…

Galinda shakes her head clear of those thoughts. She can't fall back to being his friend again. He deserves better. She needs to focus on why she's here, on what she truly wants.

When Galinda thinks of magic, Fiyero ceases to exist.

Until he opens his big mouth to groan, "_Sweet Oz_! It's hotter then an oven out here. You have an egg? I swear we could fry it on my stomach."

Galinda shushes him, slapping a hand firmly over his mouth; dagger threateningly raised in her other. "_Shut up_," she hisses, glaring up into his shocked eyes. "Do you _want _them to know we're here?"

He shakes his head quickly. Galinda lets go. They're out here to see which team can survive the longest in the heat. And which team can dispose of the most Undead.

So far they haven't come across _one._

Shouting would attract the horde closer, surely, but Galinda's not sure she can handle more than a few at once.

"They've probably all melted," Fiyero points out, voice quiet, as they begin walking again. "You know, just like we will soon."

Galinda can't help but agree. Her blouse is suffocating her, her pants burning through her flesh. She decides to undo a few of the top buttons of her uniform. Yet there is no breeze to quell the ever-pressing heat. Sweat drenches both their bodies, literally dripping from them to sizzle on the dirt ground below. Fiyero tries to wipe at his eyes, only causing more of the moisture collecting on his skin to irritate his sight.

In the distance they watch as a flare is shot into the air. The first team has given up.

Four more left.

He gives a sigh, leaning against the nearest tree. "I'm done. Shoot me now."

"Not yet," Galinda says, inspecting some branches on the ground for abnormal breaks. If she can just find a trace of their path, she can find the small horde of Undead Morrible set free in the training grounds. But then Galinda finds herself growing lethargic, the heat increasing ever more. "Oz!" She whines, breathing hard.

"Take your shirt off," Fiyero tells her. He looks slightly horrified by what he's said. It was never supposed to come out like that. Not like a demand. But he's too hot and too tired to correct himself.

Galinda complies because it seems the most logical thing to do and she's just too fatigued to care anymore.

Fiyero loves Galinda's body. He's also pretty sure he loves her as well but when he thinks of things he loves about her all he can focus on is what's been revealed in front of him. Isn't that what love is, when all you want to do is ravish the person half dressed in front of you? Galinda feels Fiyero's eyes taking her body in. She wishes she'd worn a different bra. A camisole even. He's panting just as hard as she is as he looks down at her, eyes hungry.

Galinda licks her lips, finding them chapped and dry, but the move sets something off inside of Fiyero.

Before she knows it, he's pinned her to the tree, his mouth quickly latched onto hers. Galinda's mind is muddled as he kisses her. Isn't this what her mother wants? Them, together? Galinda thinks of her options as Fiyero trails his lips down her throat.

There are only two.

Push him away, or let him continue.

There is really only one choice.

The heat is scorching as she makes her decision.

Fiyero lets out a moan as she pulls him closer and kisses him harder.

She tries to think of Arria as he lifts her feet from the ground, pressing his body against hers. But the girl is so different from the boy she has her legs wrapped around. It's nearly impossible to imagine otherwise. She can feel the rough bark of the tree scratching along her back. It's more welcome than the feel of his arousal pushing against her and she tries to imagine nimble fingers instead.

"Will you," Fiyero begins to say between their frantic kissing, "leave me… again?"

Galinda doesn't answer him, capturing his lips in lieu of speaking as she holds him tighter. The heat is positively unbearable now. How they both haven't collapsed from the sheer pressure of the air she doesn't know. A moan escapes one of them but neither is sure. Fiyero rolls his hips up into Galinda, lips now trailing down her neck. Galinda feeling less of the heat sticking to her body when his mouth moves lower still. Fiyero though, feels quite on the verge of passing out and can't figure if its from the pleasure Galinda is bringing him or the suffocating heat surrounding them.

Two more flares shoot into the sky.

Another moan, this one less out of pleasure, sounds again. Fiyero doesn't seem to have noticed, but Galinda is ever alert. She glances over Fiyero's shoulder, unsurprised to find an Undead just a few paces away. The stench of its rotting flesh cooking in the heat nearly causes her to loose her grip. She holds tight to Fiyero, even as he begins to undo the belt of her trousers.

Galinda quickly retrieves the dagger from her boot sending it straight into the head of the Verdigris about to lunge at them.

The Unmentionable drops to the ground, unmoving just as Fiyero finally realizes what's happening.

He spares a glance behind him before smirking and turning back to Galinda, head spinning from heat exhaustion as he slurs, "niiiiice shot," before latching his mouth to hers once more.

They win of course, Galinda always does. So she allows Fiyero to carry on what he started in the field later that night atop the roof to the mens barracks.

Galinda feels even dirtier afterward then she did that night in the Club.

* * *

><p>Galinda is set to graduate from Academy soon, top of her class, when Morrible calls her into her offices.<p>

"Please sit, Miss Galinda," Morrible says, motioning toward one of the chairs positioned just in front of her sparse desk. From the corner of her eye Galinda spots what appears to be a monkey sitting in the corner but she thinks no more of it as she sits down, thanking Morrible. "You needn't thank me for common courtesy dear," Morrible says with a chuckle.

Galinda smiles, tucking her hands in her lap, hoping to hide the nerves suddenly threatening to overtake her body. She hopes this isn't about her affair with Fiyero. She's been so careful to keep them hidden. If Edlyn has let something slip... Galinda gulps replying in a shaky voice, "I have much more to th-thank you for than just this seat."

Morrible grins, leaning back against her chair. She tilts her head, just looking at Galinda for a moment. The girl has grown into a beautiful young woman; strong, a true fighter. Yet with a bit of a streak for rule breaking. Morrible clears her throat before saying, "I'm sure you noticed Arria no longer works for me."

Galinda's expression gives away nothing but internally she's relieved.

Morrible continues, "She'd become a bit depressed months ago and finally confessed to your affair."

"It's true," Galinda admits, expression still blank. "But in my defense I was merely following your rules. She was not a student."

Morrible smirks, impressed by Galinda's fortitude. "You'd make quite the politician some day, you know that?"

"Thank you, Madame, but I believe my skills are much more suited to the art of sorcery."

_Ah, yes_, Morrible thinks, remembering Galinda's desire for lessons. It was, after all, the reason she had called her here today. "Speaking of which," she says, amused as Galinda's demeanor seems to brighten instantly, "I have spoken of you with the Wizard, lovely man you know."

"A _powerful _man," Galinda says, hands practically shaking with excitement and trepidation.

"As you know I recommend to him only those students I feel are my best. Naturally, you were one of my choices," Morrible says. Galinda scoots closer toward the headmistress, practically sitting on the edge of her seat. "I know I said I would teach you magic if you met my expectations. Well, to be frank, you've _exceeded _them."

"Thank you, Madame!" Galinda practically squeals before composing herself back into her seat.

Morrible chuckles. "Don't thank me yet. I am afraid I have some bad news on that promise. I cannot teach you magic Miss Galinda."

Galinda thinks the emotion coursing through her now, the one that makes her feel as if her very reason for being has been taken, must be what those in love feel at the death of their partner. She doesn't wish this emptiness upon anyone.

"My dear, don't look so crestfallen. I am not able to teach you magic because someone far more _powerful _has requested an audience," Morrible grins, adding pointedly, "_with you_."

And now Galinda feels so absolutely elated she thinks she'll faint from the bliss. The Wizard wants to meet her. _Her_. The most powerful and gifted sorcerer in all of Oz, _wants her_.

Galinda can't stop herself if she tried. She's up out of her seat and throwing her arms around Morrible's huge torso, hugging her for all she's worth. Morrible tells her a carriage will take her and her mother to city just after the graduation ceremony.

Galinda couldn't be happier as she tells her mother the news. They celebrate with some stolen wine from Morrible's cupboard.

When Galinda, mind wonderfully tipsy, tells Fiyero of the good news he lifts her off the ground, showering her face with kisses. It tickles and she giggles at the light touches. She allows him to kiss her because it's what she's been allowing him to do for months now. And they're students no longer so there's no need to hide. She's just so numb to it all. On whim he asks Galinda to marry him and Galinda accepts because it's what her mother would want and she doesn't want to be brought down from her high right now.

Not now when her life could not be more perfect.


	5. The Monsters In Us All

**Chapter 5**

_The Monsters In Us All  
><em>

Seven hundred and forty eight. That is the number of bricks in the wall that Elphaba has counted since she snuck down to the kitchen early this morning. The sky outside was still dark, dawn not yet upon the city, when she awoke. Now the light is starting to creep over the tallest of buildings, surely soon to fill the Consulate.

And soon, the light will wake Frexspar.

Elphaba curses at herself for not daring to drug her father. Her nerves were on edge enough as she slipped into his bedroom to steal a pair of his boots. The shoes are far too large on her but she knows he'll never notice them missing. They're old; one sole is starting to peel along the toe. These are not the shoes of a respected man.

They're perfect for her.

Elphaba hasn't donned a pair of shoes in years. She very nearly forgot how to tie the laces but realized quickly it was just fear causing her hands to tremor so. They kept shaking even as she wrapped over her shoulders an old servant's coat she'd found years before in a closet. It served well to keep her warm during the long nights of winter. This morning she vividly remembers pulling the hood tight against the scarf covering her face. Her protection from citizens she was soon to encounter. Her only moment of solace was when she looked at her reflection in her attic window, pleased to find not one bit of green skin peeking out. She blew out her candle shortly afterward and headed down to the kitchens with her father's old satchel full of her research and the mysterious green bottle.

She is ready to face the Wizard… or was. Now she's not so sure.

The tremors are back now, just as strong as they were before, as she thinks of meeting that powerful man. What will she say? How will she even be allowed past the gates?

What is she thinking?

This will never work!

She probably won't even make it to the end of the street before a Gale Force soldier shoots her down!

Elphaba's breaths come in quick even spurts. Her heart feels as though it will leap straight out of her chest and run back up the stairs to her room. Back where it's safe. But she knows she cannot allow herself to turn around… just as she knows her body is betraying her from moving forward. She closes her eyes and forces air through her nose, trying to quell her rising panic. She hates that she's too scared to leave.

She hates that the only safe place she'll ever know is beside the man who planned to kill her.

All Elphaba knows of the world beyond the door facing her is that it is full of people who'd rather see her blood shed on the ground then to offer her a smile. She knows the land outside the city is even worse.

But Elphaba also knows that if she doesn't leave, the land will continue to be plagued by Undead. And therefore she will always be seen as a freak.

A monster.

An unwelcome pest in need of a painful end.

Elphaba refuses to let that happen. She takes a deep breath and raises her hand to the door handle. The lock clicks, easily undone, as the door swings open before her. All it takes is two steps and she is finally outside the walls of her home… her prison.

The morning sunlight streams down through the back alley as she lets the door close silently behind her. The first thing Elphaba notices is the smell. Rotting food is piled densely against the walls of the building ahead. Rusted receptacles are buried beneath the piles, barely poking through under the mountain of trash. Elphaba tugs on her scarf, pulling it further over her nose as she takes a few more steps into the alleyway.

The second thing she notices are the sounds. Everything is sharper outside. Purer. She can clearly hear the ringing of the trolley's bell as it makes its way down a street to her right. She can imagine the people eating in the café at the end of the alley as the sounds of their silverware clink against their plates. A horse's neigh echoes off the brick walls, its trots soon following.

With every new yet familiar sound Elphaba feels the tension ebb off her shoulders.

_I can do this_, she thinks. _I can meet the Wizard_.

Elphaba secures the satchel across her shoulders as she makes her way toward the street. The sunlight hits her covered cheeks, warm, and she can't help but smile at the feeling. Elphaba thinks of summers spent at Colwen Grounds in the garden with her Nanny. She remembers how the sun warmed their backs and how Nanny always made her a cool glass of carrot juice when they were done working.

What she wouldn't give for a glass now.

What she wouldn't give to have Nanny by her side now.

The smell of freshly baked bread travels down from the café ahead. Elphaba feels her stomach twist, empty and in need of food. She was too nervous earlier to eat and now that she's faced with the delicious smells coming off the café kitchens, Elphaba begins to regret skipping breakfast.

She shouldn't have been so nervous. All over exiting a simple door!

Elphaba sighs at herself. She's definitely no hero.

"Excuse me, miss?" a voice says from behind. Elphaba freezes; mind once again reverting to the state of panic it was in earlier. "Miss, I believe you dropped something."

Elphaba's breath catches as she looks down to her bag. The pockets are closed, the buttons still done. How could something have fallen out? Confusion paints Elphaba's brow as she turns to see what the man is holding.

Her breath stills as she's met with a small pistol held just under her chin. The short man smirks, a few teeth missing, as he beckons for Elphaba to follow him back down the alley. Elphaba swallows thickly as she allows her feet to carry her forward, too afraid to move any other muscle. Her breaths are coming so quickly she's afraid the scarf around the bottom half of her face will fall off.

Elphaba doesn't know which to fear more, the pistol now, or the pistol if her face were to be revealed.

She tries to tilt her head down but the man flicks his gun against her chin, a silent order for her to keep her eyes up. Elphaba bites her bottom lip to keep from making any noise as he backs her against a wall. An old mattress slumped along the railing to an apartment entrance blocks her view of the street.

Her heart clenches. She can't be seen.

"Empty the bag," the man growls, pistol now pressed against her temple.

Elphaba keeps her hands gripped tightly to the strap across her chest, partly to keep the man from noticing how badly they are shaking and partly because she can't seem to move them otherwise.

The pistol digs deeper into the side of her head as his eyes narrow dangerously into hers. "I said, empty. The. _Bag._"

Elphaba wishes she were stronger. She wishes she could tell the man there is nothing of worth for him in her bag. She knows he won't be pleased with what he finds, surely tossing her notes to the trash piles, the bottle soon following will shatter against the pavement. Her only chance of salvation instantly ruined.

She swallows thickly.

"Do you have a death wish or something?" the man asks, voice bordering on a shout as his rancid breath washes over Elphaba's face. She closes her eyes, turning her head aside. The scarf slips a bit from the bridge of her nose at the movement. The shadows of the buildings keep the man from noticing the hint of green as he moves his face even closer to hers and demands, "Empty the bag, _now_, or I'll-"

His words are cut short as a slick of something warm lands across Elphaba's nose. When she opens her eyes, she instantly jumps back along the wall at the sight, her scarf falling from her face completely. Her chest heaves with short pants as her eyes take in the sight of the man, now dead with an ornate dagger hilt sticking out of the side of his head. A small puddle of his blood pools on the ground below the fatal wound. Elphaba shakily brings a hand up to her nose, suspecting what could be coating her skin. She represses the urge to vomit as she brings her hand away and sees the blood that stains the tips of her gloved fingers.

"Hello?" another voice echoes from the end of the alley, this time much more feminine, and Elphaba realizes, much sweeter to her ears then the thief's. She readjusts the scarf and hood over her face before leaning out into the alley to catch a glimpse of the woman. She nearly trips on her father's large boots as she tries to see past the mattress. She fumbles, catching herself but not before stepping on the dead man.

Laughter rings down the alley. "You may want to watch your step, he's a _clunker_."

Elphaba rights herself, as the woman makes her way over. She's blonde, Elphaba notices first, hair immaculately curled and falling just to her shoulders. She can't quite make out her face with the sun hitting the woman from behind. But Elphaba knows this cannot be the owner of the dagger. Not the woman in tall heels wearing the gorgeous yellow dress.

Her eyes travel back down to the man, specifically to the hilt of the dagger. The carved designs scream of girlish elegance and Elphaba becomes overwhelmed with fear at what this new stranger has planned for her.

"P-please," Elphaba finally finds her voice, cracking and high. She takes a step back just as Galinda finally stops beside the dead man. Elphaba can see her face clearly now, striking blue eyes search for hers, squinting as she tilts her head to the side. Elphaba doesn't think she's ever seen someone quite as beautiful. But then again she hasn't seen anyone quite as deadly either. "Please," Elphaba repeats, this time softer. "I me-me-mean no h-harm."

Galinda pays her no attention as she crouches down next to the man. Elphaba watches, stunned as the blonde tucks some loose curls behind her ear before yanking her dagger out of the mans head in one swift motion. She wipes the blood off on his back, lips curled in disgust before she tucks the now-clean blade inside her small clutch. Galinda stands up, eyeing Elphaba curiously once more before she asks, "Are you stupid or just crazy?"

Elphaba's mouth falls open as she stutters a response, "Uh, I…uh."

"So just stupid then?" Galinda confirms.

"N-no, I… and then you…" Elphaba manages to sputter, still reeling from earlier. She takes a deep breath, legs suddenly feeling like butter along a heated skillet. Her mind goes dizzy as she feels two strong, albeit small, hands grip onto her arms. Galinda holds Elphaba steady, guiding her to lean back against the wall.

"Easy now," Galinda tells her.

Elphaba closes her eyes as she tries to keep her head from swimming. Galinda's perfume wraps around her senses, not helping her to find reality.

"You smell nice," Elphaba says quietly.

Galinda gives a huff of frustration. "Yes, I know. Thank you. But right now that is the least of your worries. I mean what were you thinking being down here in the first place? And what are you wearing? It's supposed to be quite warm today and you look as though you're ready to hike up mount Runcible in the dead of winter! I mean, honestly!"

Elphaba feels her senses slowly coming back to her. Galinda continues her ranting as Elphaba straightens against the wall, vision no longer cloudy and mind sharp once more.

Galinda continues on, undeterred. "I mean have you any idea just what he could have _done_ to you? Have you thought about how you would protect yourself? Do you even _know_ how to defend yourself?"

Elphaba turns her eyes to the ground, hands clutching the straps to her bag once more. "I-I didn't think anyone wo-would be down here… it's usually empty," she says lamely. "I just ne-need to see the Wizard."

Galinda perks up. "The Wizard? You have an appointment with him today as well?"

Elphaba's head shoots up, eyes locked on Galinda's. "You have an appointment with him?"

Galinda smiles and tosses her hair behind her shoulders with a quick shake of her head. "Yes. I am to be his _apprentice _soon."

Elphaba looks down at Galinda, awed. The Wizard's future apprentice! What luck! She tightens her grip around the strap, hoping to quell her new batch of nerves. "You-you must be _quite_ p-pu-powerful, then." Elphaba groans inwardly at her stutters, embarrassed.

Galinda, used to such sentiments, wants to nod but can't seem to bring herself to do so in front of this odd stranger. She shrugs, blushing some and offers a small smile. "We'll see."

Elphaba feels her own lips pulling into the unfamiliar shape of a grin at Galinda's answer. "I'm s-sure you'll be j-j-just as won-won-derful."

Galinda's cheeks redden further but she attests it to the rising heat of the day. She holds out her hand. "The name's Galinda. Galinda Upland."

"Elphaba, just Elphaba." Elphaba says shyly, taking Galinda's hand within her own gloved one. Even through the material Elphaba thinks Galinda's palm feels warm.

Galinda stares for a second too long at their hands before pulling away, discreetly wiping her palm against the side of her dress.

Elphaba doesn't notice. She readjusts her bag. "Thank you, for…" she says, trailing off as her eyes fall on the dead body behind them, "for saving me."

"It's my job," Galinda offers, nonchalantly. "Scum are scum whether they're Verdigris or not. They all deserve the same."

Elphaba's heart skips a beat at Galinda's words. She pulls down on her hood, obscuring her face further, eyes downcast once more. "I best be g-going then. Thank y-you a-again, Miss Up-Upland."

Elphaba tries to step forward but finds her way blocked by Galinda's raised arm. "Wait," Galinda says, her eyes still trying to search for Elphaba's. The girl reminds her of Arria; they're about the same height if not for Elphaba being a bit taller. Their voices are both low yet impossibly soft. Appreciative yet timid. And their demeanor is striking, so closed and guarded. Galinda feels a sting of regret for letting Arria go as she did. She's not about to let Elphaba travel alone. Not after what's just happened to her. And besides, what type of future apprentice would she be if she let some poor citizen fall to the hands of another depraved after just having saved her? No, Galinda isn't about to let anything mar her perfect record. "Walk with me," she says, lowering her arm and stepping up to Elphaba's side. She offers the taller woman a smile, hoping to convey her insistence through the expression.

"N-no, thank you. P-please. It's al-all right," Elphaba insists, shaking her head as she begins moving forward. She can't let Galinda come with her. Not after what's she's just said about Verdigris. Elphaba feels a shudder roll through her spine as she imagines Galinda's dagger sailing through the air toward her own head.

"Why not?" Galinda asks, coming up and easily keeping stride with Elphaba, her heels clicking loudly along the pavement. She glances down to Elphaba's feet, noticing the shoes flopping oddly as she walks. "Are those even in your size?"

"Y-you don't have to a-accompany me," Elphaba says as they both finally reach the street. Elphaba is careful to keep her face shrouded from view, and pointed away from the sun so as to cast her eyes in shadow. She feels sweat starting to dot her brow in the early morning heat.

Galinda is confused. She's just saved this woman's life and yet this is the thanks she receives? A brush off? She excuses Elphaba's odd behavior, attributing it to the fact that the girl was just held up in a back alley. That would be enough to make anyone act a bit crazy. Crazy enough to walk down another alley.

"Look," Galinda says finally, as they stop to allow a trolley to pass by. "Just let me walk with you until we're in a safer neighborhood. I'd hate to have saved you only to have you wind up dead in another alley later."

Elphaba steals a glance down at Galinda, believing the sincerity she sees in the woman's eyes. Elphaba nods before turning her eyes back to the ground once more.

"Good," Galinda smiles. "Now, could I perhaps convince you to stop inside a shoe pallor along the way? Maybe a dress shop or two?"

Elphaba feels a chuckle escape her lips, and her heart warms at the sound. She hasn't laughed in a very long time and if walking with Galinda will provide her at least that bit of humanity then she will gladly accept the woman's offer. To feel like she belongs even for the briefest moment would be worth the dagger later, she thinks.

* * *

><p>They continue walking in silence for some ways, even once they reach a neighborhood Galinda deems as "safe". Elphaba didn't seem the least bit interested in leaving Galinda's side. Galinda doesn't seem to mind the extra company. She would be lying though if she said she wasn't curious about her strange companion. The taller girl hasn't said so much as a word since they left that alley, leaving Galinda to do all the talking. So Galinda regales Elphaba with tales of Academy and all her accomplishments therein.<p>

Because if there's one thing Galinda enjoys it's definitely stroking her own ego.

She expects a bit of impressed noise from Elphaba when she tells her of all she's excelled in at Academy. Maybe even a nod or two, but instead she is met with nothing but silence and shrugs.

Galinda is observant enough to know when someone isn't paying her the attention she deserves. So when she grows quiet out of indignation and Elphaba's head turns to look at her, shrouded eyes almost asking why Galinda stopped speaking, Galinda becomes immediately confused.

Isn't this what the girl wanted? For her to stop running her mouth?

"I l-like your stories," Galinda hears the muffled voice admit from behind the tattered old scarf.

The words are so simple and spoken with such admiration that Galinda is taken aback. No one has spoken to her this way since... since Arria. Again she is hit with memories of servant girl and her stomach twists with guilt. Arria was clearly invested in their short affair despite the little regard Galinda showed her. And according to Morrible their time together was enough to leave the girl depressed for months. Galinda hates feeling accountable. And she can't help but feel responsible for the way things ended with the servant girl. If she'd been more discreet perhaps the girl would still be under Morrible's employ. Galinda groans inwardly. She doesn't want to be plagued with such negative thoughts, _especially_ today. So she quickly decides that since she could not do right by Arria then she will at least show Elphaba the respect due in her stead. That was after all the noble, future apprentice-ish, thing to do. She feels she better get used to doing good deeds now. Soon she'll be flooded with similar requests from far less deserving Ozians.

_Oz, how does the Wizard put up with it all?_ Galinda thinks.

She watches the taller woman adjust that bag slung over her shoulders for what feels like the hundredth time. Was it truly that heavy? If it wouldn't wrinkle her new dress she would gladly offer to carry the burden. But she must look her best for the Wizard and if that means allowing this one small gesture of kindness to pass then pass it shall.

_What is in that thing anyway_, she wonders.

Elphaba's fingers clutch the strap so tightly Galinda believes that even in death no one will be able to pry it from her hands. And in the off-chance that Elphaba is a rather clever assassin at least Galinda will be nearby to thwart any attacks on the Wizard's life. Though, the more time they spend in each others company, the more Galinda realizes that scenario is probably the farthest thing from the truth.

Elphaba is odd, intriguingly so, but she's no killer.

Especially not in those shoes.

She's weird, lonely and far too considerate for her own good. Galinda wonders what she must look like under all those layers of fabric. _Probably hideousous_, she thinks. Why else would she be so covered up? Galinda had tried her best to pry even the simplest of answers from Elphaba when they first began walking together to absolutely no avail. Galinda begins to wonder if maybe this is what her classmates felt whenever they tried to engage her in conversation. Oz, no wonder Fiyero was so frustrated with her when they were first becoming friends.

She hopes he made it to the Vinkus safely after graduation. He was to return home to prepare for their coming wedding. Whenever Galinda thinks about marrying Fiyero she feels as though a great hole has opened inside of her and threatens to swallow her whole. But it's for the best, she realizes. Her mother is right about one thing. No sane man will ever want to marry a woman more capable then himself.

She's lucky she's at least marrying someone she considers a close friend.

She'll worry about that gaping hole later.

For now she's focusing on getting more then two words out of Elphaba.

Galinda groans as they cross through a small park, the grass long since dead. As most things in Oz have become, she muses. She's exhausted every topic she can think of save for the most cliché of them all. She sighs hoping maybe she will get a bite from Elphaba with her next question. "So," she says, watching Elphaba from the corner of her eye, "I hear the city is in for a very warm summer."

Again, no response from Elphaba aside from a small shrug of her shoulders.

For her part, Elphaba is purposely keeping Galinda in the dark. What could she speak of? She isn't like Galinda. She isn't like anyone in all of Oz. How could she explain _who_ she is without revealing _what_ she is?

It is best to keep quiet. Quiet she is safe. She was more than content to listen to Galinda speak at length of her years at Kellswater Academy. That is until she started turning the questions on her.

"Why are you being so quiet?" Galinda asks.

Again, Elphaba shrugs.

Galinda stops walking and Elphaba, confused, turns to look at her. An expression of irritation has settled upon Galinda's face. Her nose is all scrunched up as she eyes Elphaba. "I know you are capable of responding so why have you ceased speaking?"

Elphaba is about to raise her shoulders when Galinda sputters, "Nuh-uh-uh! No more of this shrugging nonsense. Sweet Oz, how do your friends _put up_ with you?"

"I…I don't have any," Elphaba finds herself saying before she can bite her tongue.

"Oh," Galinda says, knowing all too well what that feeling is like. Though in Elphaba's case she seems to think it's not by choice. "Family?"

Elphaba pauses for a moment, thinking on how to answer. She settles on, "No one worthwhile."

Galinda nods, "Same."

A small group of children come into the park, loud and boisterous. Galinda thinks the silence surrounding them is far louder.

Again Elphaba plays with the strap of the bag over her shoulders and Galinda is instantly reminded of what she wishes to ask. "What's in there anyway?"

Elphaba's head tilts down to the bag as she lays a hand protectively over the large clasp on the front. She tries to think of what to say to Galinda without revealing too much. So she settles on, "research, for the Wizard."

"Vague," Galinda comments, eyes squinting up into the dark hood of the face beside her. "Care to _elaborate_ perhaps?"

Elphaba feels her pulse racing and turns her head to the side to avoid Galinda's probing eyes. She thinks of all the essays she's ever read from every one of her father's science journals and licks her lips before answering, "U-unmentionable blood limitations in adverse environments."

"Sounds… fascinating." Galinda's nose scrunches as she turns to look as a few of the children begin climbing up a nearby tree. The ones left on the ground are pretending to be Undead. She can't imagine spending all her time inside a lab, as Elphaba must. It must be dreadfully boring.

It sounds exactly like the type of thing old Dr. Dillamond would have been interested in.

Galinda turns back to Elphaba, "When is your meeting?"

"I…," Elphaba begins to say, fidgeting with that worn strap some more. Galinda just wants to reach out and still the odd girls hands but stops herself. This isn't Arria, she has to remind herself. Future apprentices don't go around touching strange girls hands no matter how nervous they appear. For Oz sake she's just met Elphaba! She barely knows her!

For some reason, a small part of her feels as if she already does, though. And soon they may be working in the palace together. Galinda smiles, encouraging Elphaba to continue.

Elphaba lets out a breath. The truth will have come out eventually, and it may as well be now. "I-I don't have a… a m-meeting."

Galinda's smile falls. "And you thought you could just walk into the Palace and get one?" she asks.

Elphaba blushes, eyes to the ground. "T-this research is my life, Miss Upland… if he doesn't s-see it then…" she trails off as the reality to her situation finally sinks in. Elphaba feels her heart grow heavy as she says, "t-then I have _nothing_ le-left."

Galinda doesn't see how some simple research could be so important but she feels Elphaba's words more then she hears them. She feels the pain masked by the quiet voice, the desperation. She couldn't give Arria what she wanted but perhaps, perhaps she can for Elphaba. Good deed number one. "Join me, then."

"Wh-what?" Elphaba's head snaps up, facing Galinda.

Galinda smiles. "Join me for my meeting. You can give the Wizard your research then."

"I couldn't… it's you're opp-opp- your chance." Elphaba says, shaking her head.

Galinda reaches forward, laying a hand atop Elphaba's. She can feel the woman's hands tighten against the strap under her soft touch. "Please. I insist. What do you say?"

Elphaba feels her world come grinding to a sudden halt. First Galinda saves her in the alley, then she insists upon escorting her to the Palace and now this? How is it she's found the nicest person in all of Oz after only being amongst the citizens for less then a few minutes? Could she have been wrong about people? Could there be more good then bad in the land?

But when Elphaba sees the children 'slaying' their Undead friends she knows it's only because Galinda is blind to the truth.

She has to take this opportunity. She needs to accept Galinda's offer so she can get to the Wizard. Only once she proves herself to His Ozness with her research can she be free; only then can she entertain the idea that Galinda's kindness toward her will continue. She hopes she can prove herself, because then for the first time, she might have a friend.

Elphaba feels a smile tug at her lips as she replies, "I'd like th-that very much, thank you."

* * *

><p>Once they reach the Palace, the two women are immediately escorted to the Wizard's private den. It's cozy, quite unlike what Galinda was expecting. Where is the spectacle, the <em>power<em>? Here is a simple library, small fireplace and a few armchairs. However, Elphaba seems impressed by it. The odd woman is inspecting several very boring looking books along a shelf, hands gingerly touching their spines.

Galinda sighs and moves to sit along the armrest of one of the chairs. At least one of them seems to be enjoying themselves.

"Good morning!" A man enters carrying a tray of tea, probably a servant, Galinda thinks. His shirt is freshly pressed and tucked into his high-waist trousers. He is still wearing bed slippers though. How very strange. She watches as the grey-haired man gives her a warm smile and sets the tray down along the quaint side table.

"I didn't realize we'd have an extra guest," he says kindly, pouring some tea into one of the two cups, "In that case I just won't have any I guess," he chuckles. "As for sugar. Two or one?" he asks, eyes on Galinda.

Galinda's mouth drops open upon realizing _this_ must be the Wizard. Who else could get away with such an offense ensemble? The Wizard continues smiling kindly at Galinda despite her inability to form a sentence. Elphaba notices the stunned expression gracing the blonde's pretty features. She clears her throat loudly, snapping Galinda to attention. She turns to Elphaba who acts as though she never made a sound.

Galinda turns to the Wizard, an apologetic smile already in place. "I'm sorry your Ozness, two please."

"Sweet tooth I see," the Wizard says with a wink. He turns to Elphaba. "And for you, Miss?"

"Elphaba," She says quietly, feeling her cheeks flush. She's seen the Wizard enough times in photographs in her father's papers to know whom she's speaking with.

The Wizard chuckles. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Elphaba, but what I meant was one or two sugars for your _tea_, darling," he says, holding up the steaming cup.

Elphaba feels her cheeks heat, turning her eyes to the polished wood floor. "None, thank you. I couldn't t-take what was or-originally meant to be-be-be yours."

"Nonsense!" the Wizard says. He hands Galinda her cup of tea and brings the other one over to Elphaba. "You are a guest in my home and I insist, please."

Elphaba hesitates, but upon seeing the Wizard's kind smile, relents and accepts the cup.

"You may want to," the Wizard says, pointing to Elphaba's mouth. "I can have my steward hang your garments for you, if you'd like."

"No!" Elphaba exclaims, startling both the Wizard and Galinda, who spills some of her tea on the armchair. Elphaba watches as Galinda quickly sets about to clean the mess. The blonde keeps stealing glances to make sure the Wizard has not noticed her less-than-graceful moment. Elphaba calms herself before addressing the Wizard. "I'm sorry, s-sir. I am sick is all."

"Oh, you poor thing," the Wizard frowns giving Elphaba a sympathetic pat on the arm. "In that case you _definitely_ could use that tea."

Elphaba nods, turning away from both occupants of the room so as to hide her face. She lowers her scarf below her chin to sip her tea while Galinda sets about to business. "Your wonderfulness," she says, setting her cup down and giving the Wizard a slight curtsey. "Madame Morrible has told me you arranged for this audience and I am ever so excited to hear what you wish to tell me."

"Ah yes!" the Wizard says, a bounce in his step as he moves closer to Galinda. He looks up into the blonde's excited eyes and smiles. "I am in desperate need of a new attaché if you will. Someone who exemplifies all I've come to expect in my Gale Force officers but more. I need someone fresh-faced, outspoken and most importantly of all, incredibly skilled."

Galinda's enthusiasm deflates as the Wizard speaks on. He did not call her here to make her his apprentice; no, he's asked her here to be his new poster child. Galinda doesn't know who to be more upset with, Morrible for sending her here, or herself for believing in something so obviously ridiculous now.

"So what do you say?" the Wizard finally finishes, beaming grin still in place.

Galinda looks to him and then to Elphaba, who is hiding in the corner still sipping her tea. Galinda wonders what Elphaba will say when she speaks to the Wizard… and if her dreams will come true since her own don't seem to be transpiring.

Everything, _everything _she's ever worked for was for this?

No. Galinda did not spend all those years becoming the best just to be the Wizards Ambassador of the Guards. She's not just a pretty face with a rifle! She's more than that.

_So_ much more.

"Your Wizardship, if I could ask something?" Galinda interjects at the next available pause. The Wizard nods, pleased that Galinda seems to be interested. The blonde continues, "I am honored you have considered me for this position but I was hoping that today I could speak to you about a different type of arrangement. Perhaps one more in line with an apprenticeship."

"An apprentice?" The Wizard asks, one eyebrow rising along his forehead. "Where? For who?"

"For you, of course!" Galinda says, enthusiasm renewed once more. "You're the most powerful sorcerer in all of _Oz_ and it's my greatest dream to be taught magic by someone as incredible as you. To become a sorceress as _great _as you!"

The Wizard smiles at Galinda, but this time not as large… this time with remorse. "I'm sorry Galinda, but I cannot teach you magic."

"What do you mean?" Galinda asks, clearly confused. How could the Wizard not be able to teach her magic? Is it a matter of scheduling conflicts? Previous engagements? Does he just not want to?

"I need to be honest with you," the Wizard says, noting that Elphaba is now keenly interested in their conversation. "With both of you. Hell, I should be honest with all of Oz really. _Especially,_ during these times. I'd hoped by now to have all this mess done with but here we are, some twenty-five years later and those _things_ are still terrorizing the land!" He groans and plops himself unceremoniously down in one of the armchairs.

Elphaba thinks the Wizard looks far older now, slumped in the chair with his eyes downcast, than he did just moments earlier when he happily handed her the cup of tea. She watches silently as he runs a hand over his jaw, the unnoticeable stubble now clearly evident as it nosily scratches along his fingers.

"I'm not wonderful," the Wizard says in a soft voice. "I can't perform magic aside from some cheap parlor tricks I picked up back home."

Elphaba feels pity for the suddenly small-looking man in the big chair. An entire world of trouble rests upon his incapable shoulders. She understands why he's kept it a secret. She can only imagine the riots that would ensue if the citizens of Oz found out their wonderful Wizard was a fraud.

At least he isn't hurting anyone with his lies… he is merely trying to do good by them.

Galinda feels no sympathy though. How can this man claim to be the powerful and mighty Oz and yet have absolutely no magic to show for it? No wonder the Undead run rampant across the land! There is no one standing in their way!

"You're _pathetic_," Galinda says, disgusted with the man who gazes up at her through such accepting eyes. He nods, sighing. But Galinda is not done. Not in the least. She's come all this way for nothing. Nothing! She will not leave until she gets the words she wants to say off her chest. "You're worse than the Verdigris even! At least they know what they want and go after it! You on the other hand, you just sit up here in your Emerald tower, safe in your night slippers while people like me, people like Elphaba, suffer because of _your _lies!"

"I know," the Wizard says quietly, head bowed.

"I just… _you_… this whole… _fuck_!" Galinda shouts letting out a low groan as she clenches her fists by her sides. She shakes her head several times, muttering under her breath before looking back over to the Wizard, disgusted. "I can't… I just… I need to leave. Come on, Elphaba."

Galinda stalks across the room grabbing a hold of Elphaba's wrist and pulling her toward the door. Elphaba sputters, teacup falling to the floor as she stumbles over her father's boots trying to keep up with Galinda. She looks over to the Wizard as they pass, at his defeated shoulders and weary expression. Elphaba stops walking. He may not be of magic, but he still holds power over Oz.

He can still fix everything.

With her research he can be great, just as she will be when he lauds her for her discovery.

"Elphaba," Galinda huffs, tugging on the long sleeve of Elphaba's coat, "_Let's go_."

"No," Elphaba says, voice strong. Galinda seems taken aback by the tone but she doesn't release Elphaba's coat. "Please, let me go. I don't care if you think he's a liar, he can still help Oz."

Galinda stares, opened-mouthed as Elphaba reaches into her bag and pulls out the small green bottle. As she steps toward the Wizard, Galinda grabs her by the wrist again, pulling her toward the door. The momentum jerks Elphaba's body back, her hood falling from her head. She feels Galinda let go of her arm as the Wizard lets out a gasp.

Elphaba feels her blood run cold, frozen with the knowledge that her face is exposed.

Galinda quickly reaches into her clutch, extracting her dagger. She's just about to embed the point into Elphaba's skull when the Wizard's voice booms through the room.

"Stop!" he shouts, leaping to his feet. Galinda holds her position at the order, halfway to Elphaba. She lowers her hand, but still keeps the dagger in her grip, poised to launch it into the green woman's head in an instant if she needs.

The Wizard is staring at Elphaba, expression absolutely unreadable. Is he disgusted? Intrigued? Elphaba doesn't care to wait for him to make his decision. She only has one chance to say what she needs to before they both will surely have her killed. "Please, _p-please_ wait," she begs still completely unaware of Galinda's reaction, but knowing the deadly woman is waiting just behind her. "Please, l-let me just say what I've c-come here to say and then you may do with me what you m-must."

The Wizard says nothing and Elphaba spares a glance over her shoulder, brown eyes meeting Galinda's for the first time, bare. She sees the confusion in the blue eyes staring back at her. She also clearly sees the revulsion. Elphaba turns back before she can see anything else.

"I'm not stricken, despite my obvious coloring," Elphaba says hoping her neutral tone does not spark any reaction in the two. "I can prove my humanity if I must, I've…" Elphaba feels her throat tighten at the thought of all the countless experiments her father put her through. She swallows thickly, forcing down the memories, her voice more assured as she continues. "_I've_ run tests and during my research I came across this," she holds the bottle out once more. "It's the cause of the plague. _This_ is what created the first Unmentionables."

The Wizard stares down at the bottle, recognition and awe crossing his features. He tentatively reaches out; taking the bottle gently from Elphaba's outstretched hand. Elphaba's shoulders tense at his reaction. How could he know the bottle? Unless…

"Where did you find this?" the Wizard all but demands.

Elphaba lets out a gasp. "It was y-you…"

"What?" the Wizard says then realizes what Elphaba is implying. He begins furiously shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, no! _I _did not start this terror! I haven't seen one of these in ages!"

"Twenty-five years, right?" Galinda's voice speaks up from behind. She makes her way over, dagger still held tightly in her palm. "What is in there exactly? Or do I need to offer you some in a bit of tea to find out? Will you be taking one or two cubes of sugar with that?" She glares at the Wizard and he recoils, shaking his head once more.

"I swear to you I did not cause this!" he insists, turning the bottle over, inspecting every crevice of it. "This is merely a beverage I sold back when I first came to Oz. It's nothing but a bit of alcohol and some spices for flavor. I used to sell this everywhere back home with no problems!"

"Then explain these results!" Elphaba says throwing her notes down on the side table. She points down to her findings. "Right here, 'when mixed with chemical V –_your bottle_– the dead human blood samples turn and at once become Undead'!"

"Impossible!" the Wizard exclaims, brushing Elphaba's words aside with a flick of his wrist. "And why should I believe the word of a girl clearly stricken in the first place! _Guards_!"

"I am not stricken!" Elphaba shouts, panic quickly flooding her body as she hears the sounds of the Gale Forcers' approaching steps. Her eyes flick to Galinda who looks torn between stabbing Elphaba and fleeing the room all together. Elphaba turns back to the Wizard, heart pounding against her chest so fast she can hear the blood pumping in her ears. "Please," Elphaba whispers.

"_Guards_!" the Wizard shouts again, ducking behind an armchair just as the soldiers burst into the room.

Elphaba spins on her heels. The guards grab hold of Galinda first, forcing the blonde painfully to her knees. Her dagger falls to the ground, kicked aside by a soldier before Galinda can even reach for it. A few finally notice Elphaba, eyes going wide as they swing their rifles out from behind their backs and point them straight at her. Elphaba lets out a scream, turning her body away from the guns as the guards prepare to fire.

Yet the shots never ring out.

All is silent as Elphaba turns back around. Everyone in the room is paralyzed. Everyone save for the two women.

Elphaba doesn't know what happened or why. All she knows is that one second she was as good as dead and the next everyone is frozen.

She can't help but think this is like that morning in the lab…

The morning her father tried to murder her.

Galinda is stunned, still held to the ground by at least five men. There's a current in the air, almost electric, that has pieces of her hair rising off her head. Only one thing Galinda knows of can cause a scene such as this.

_Magic_, Galinda thinks, staring up in surprise at Elphaba.

Elphaba has yet to notice Galinda is not frozen too, until the blonde lets out a lengthy breath. It makes Elphaba jump, frightened by the sudden noise, and she clutches the bookcase beside herself to stay up right. When she sees Galinda struggling to wriggle free of the men Elphaba is by her side in an instant to help.

"How did you _do_ this?" Galinda asks as they free her from the last man. Parts of her dress are ruined but Galinda pays that no heed as her eyes stick to Elphaba.

"I don't know," Elphaba says hurriedly as she grabs the bottle out from the Wizard's stiff hand. She stuffs it back into her bag before throwing the hood over her face and hastily wrapping the scarf around her neck and mouth.

Shouts are heard from outside the door, far along the hall. More guards are on their way.

Galinda doesn't hesitate as she grabs Elphaba by the wrist and yanks, leading her to the door. Elphaba scoops up her notes as Galinda grabs her dagger and pulls her out of the room. Elphaba drops a few stray sheets of paper as she stuffs the bulk of her research in her bag, but she continues to let Galinda drag her along. A siren begins blasting through the Palace, similar to the one from Academy and Galinda knows it's only a matter of time before they're found unless they can get off the grounds.

They weave their way easily past the groups of Ozians milling in the halls on tour. Guards are quickly ushering everyone outside and Galinda uses the opportunity, mixing them into a large crowd. She doesn't stop pulling Elphaba along until they're at least three blocks away from the palace, at which point she forcibly grabs the taller woman, moving her into a side alley as she pulls out her dagger once more and pins Elphaba to the wall with it.

Elphaba holds her hands up above her shoulders as Galinda presses the dagger against her throat. "Explain. _Now_!" Galinda hisses.

Elphaba feels the knife loosen against her skin and she coughs a few times from the force with which Galinda threw her against the unrelenting wall, her scarf slipping from her face in the process. Elphaba's breaths are heavy as she says, "I told you, I-I don't know… what happened!"

"Not the magic, idiot. I know about the _magic_!" Galinda growls, "You. Explain _you_!"

"I'm not s-stricken," Elphaba wheezes. "I'm green because my mother was bitten a few days before she had me. _Please_," she begs, turning her head to the side as Galinda moves closer, pressing harder. "I'm not one of them! If you kill me you'll kill the only person who knows how they came to be!"

"I was there, _Verdigris_," Galinda says, nearly spitting the last of her words. "Why would I need you when I know the truth and have all your precious research?"

Elphaba wracks her brain for an answer; any answer to feed Galinda that will keep her from pushing the dagger into her skin and ending her life. The answer comes to her almost instantly. "_Magic_," Elphaba breathes. Galinda loosens her hold but only just. Elphaba is about to open her mouth to speak again when the Wizard's voice carries over the emergency towers placed throughout the city. Galinda keeps her hold on Elphaba as they both listen intently.

"Citizens of Oz! There has been an attempt at my life! An attempt by none other than a _sentient_ _Verdigris_! Her skin is as green as her soulless brethren but her mind as sharp as any of ours! She must be brought to me! Her and her accomplice, Galinda Upland!"

Elphaba feels her last hope flee as the Wizard launches into a lengthy description of both girls. Galinda is furious. She seethes, eyes narrowed as she forces her dagger against Elphaba's neck, careful so as to not draw blood… blood that is likely contaminated with that of the Undead. She makes sure it hurts though, pleased when she sees tears springing to Elphaba's eyes.

"Why don't I just kill you now and save you the trouble later?" Galinda asks, venom dripping from her every word.

Elphaba thinks Galinda has a point. Why doesn't the blonde just kill her now? Or why didn't she kill her before in the Wizard's den? Galinda is clearly a hero, isn't it her job to rid the world of scum like her? Elphaba failed in the only thing that could ever set her free. And now that the Wizard is hunting her, now that Galinda is no longer showing her kindness… what more could there possibly be left for her in life? She can't return home, it was never a home to begin with. The only home she's ever known was with Nanny.

She should just let Galinda kill her so she can be with Nanny again.

It would be better this way. Better she die at the hands of someone skilled who will surely make it quick; quicker than it will be if she were trapped on the streets and riddled with bullets like a true Verdigris. Better Galinda then the Wizard.

Better Galinda then Frexspar and that cold lab table.

Better here, now.

She tried to escape. She tried to free herself.

She failed.

And for a brief, fleeting, moment in time she belonged.

_It wasn't nearly long enough_, she thinks. Elphaba turns her watery gaze into Galinda's. _But worth it._

Elphaba takes what she think will surely be her last breath before she whispers softly, "you should."

No one Galinda has ever known would simply consent to being put to death and she feels her heart still at the absolute acceptance she sees in Elphaba's eyes. Eyes she realizes are nothing at all like Arria's. No, Elphaba's eyes are far too warm, incredibly raw and unbelievably deep. Galinda's sure that she'll never find another pair as soulful. And close up like this Elphaba's green skin is not at all like those of the Verdigris she's slain. It's far more- Galinda forces her eyes away with a shake of her head. She can't be thinking those thoughts. Not when her dagger is pressed so dangerously against a warm neck.

She feels Elphaba swallow against her knuckles before saying hoarsely, "If you f-feel that I deserve to… to die then it's only fair you be the one to end my life…. You're the sole reason my heart still beats now an-anyway."

Galinda feels her anger ebb slowly at Elphaba's haunting words. To have someone willingly give their life to her so simply… it stirs a feeling in Galinda's gut she can't quite place. It makes her uncomfortable and she realizes she's still holding the dagger against Elphaba's throat. She takes a step back, enough to give Elphaba room to breathe but still pinning her to the wall just in case. This woman isn't entirely of Undead kind... but she also can't be all human either. For a fleeting moment, Galinda thinks she should really just kill the green woman and be done with it.

It's what she's always done to Verdigris without ever blinking an eye.

But then she sees those brown eyes staring straight into hers so intensely that it makes her chest ache. No Undead could ever have eyes so clear. Oz, no one has ever looked at her as though she's the reason for their life. It's unnerving and not entirely unwelcome. It scares Galinda. She feels that pulse of electric in the air again, the hair at the nape of her neck standing on end.

She's reminded of magic.

Of the power Elphaba holds.

And now more then ever she needs that.

_Yes_, she thinks to herself. She'll spare Elphaba so she can have that same power.

Galinda makes a decision.

If the Wizard wants her so badly, he can come find her._ Hunt her_ for all she cares. She'll be more than ready.

She'll_ finally_ have magic.

She unwraps the scarf from around Elphaba's neck, pulling the girl's hood down lower and the collar up over her green face higher. Elphaba allows Galinda to work on her clothes, more than willing to follow her orders in lieu of the other option Galinda could have taken. Galinda throws the scarf over her own head, tucking her curls underneath and tying a small knot at the nape of her neck. It is a poor disguise but will work for the moment.

"Come with me," Galinda says, taking Elphaba by the wrist and leading them further down the alley.

Elphaba doesn't know where they are going but she gladly follows.


	6. The Soldier and the Recluse

**Chapter 6 **

_The Soldier and the Recluse_

Galinda leads Elphaba swiftly through the throngs of anxious Ozians out on the street. Murmurs pass their ears as they walk. Hushed voices whisper rumors about the girls ... about the fortune promised to whoever can bring them in. They keep their heads bowed as they press forward through the crowd. Elphaba feels every brush of a body against hers as she walks beside Galinda. Each time she fears the person will turn around and realize whom they just touched.

And then it'll all be over.

Fear overwhelms her at the thought of being caught.

There are far too many people, far too many eyes that could recognize them as the girls from the Wizard's announcement. Her eyes dart from beneath the hood of her coat, flicking from body to body.

No one seems to notice them though; everyone is on edge and engrossed in conversation. Elphaba hears her name being spoken, being spat out in disgust. She hugs her bag tighter to her chest, trying to block the voices out.

Galinda feels Elphaba's hand tense within her own, clearly signaling that the Verdigris girl is frightened. She wishes she could tell Elphaba to relax, that her fidgets will surely have them noticed and outted in no time but she knows she can't. She can't draw attention to them. Not when they are around so many people, each citizen eager to be the one to find them.

She settles with sparing a glance to Elphaba, eyes set in a heated glare.

Elphaba senses the gaze burning on her cheek and lets her eyes focus on Galinda's for a moment. The annoyance she sees there makes her turn away from the shorter girl. Yet, her hand seems to have a mind of its own; her fingers only squeeze Galinda's harder. She mentally berates herself for this.

Galinda feels a rush of warmth roll up her arm at the touch. She's disgusted that she's still holding hands, _thankfully _gloved, with the Verdigris girl. But she must, she realizes. If she were to let go she'd lose Elphaba in a clock tick. The crowds are just too thick, and without the strange girl she'll never clear her name.

She'll never get magic.

She hates that she's not in control of her fate. She hates that she had that moment of weakness this morning in the alley. She hates that she invited this… this _thing _into her life.

But now is not the time to think of regrets. _What is done is done and what is in the past must be forgotten_, Morrible has drilled into her head. Galinda knows she can only afford to think of what lies ahead. She needs to get them out of this city and somewhere safe.

She needs a plan, _fast_.

Galinda resorts to combing her memory of her time spent at Academy. She tries to think of the first things she learned during basic training. Before embarking on any mission you always needed supplies.

Her dagger is simply not going to be enough and Galinda curses herself for coming to this city with nothing more than her pistol and the knife. She'll have to resort to thieving. Perhaps there is an outpost camp along the edge of the city? She could easily sneak in and grab a few essentials.

Though definitely not in what she's wearing right now.

But Galinda has a plan to change all that.

Elphaba takes some comfort in the fact that Galinda seems to know where she's going. But as they turn down a very familiar street Elphaba feels her nerves come rushing back. The Consulate stands just a few buildings away along on the path ahead. Galinda's steady pace never ceases as she pulls a suddenly reluctant Elphaba along.

Elphaba knows where Galinda is taking her, back to her father. But how could she know? How could she know this is where she's been living? Elphaba tries to control her breathing as they near the old façade but with every step closer she grows more panicked.

Galinda senses the change in the air, that same electric charge raising bumps along her arm. She turns to Elphaba, brow furrowed. As they pass the old Munchkin Consulate the static all but disappears and Galinda thinks she understands why.

This is after all where she saved Elphaba's life.

Clearly the girl's magic is tied to her emotions. Twice now they've manifested only when faced with death, or the memory of facing it anyway. Galinda wonders how to use this new-found knowledge to her benefit.

It will definitely come in handy in the event that they're caught.

A few minutes later Elphaba finds herself standing on a small stoop in front of a very decrepit brownstone building. The crowds are less thick in this part of the city; just a few people dot the streets. Elphaba looks up to find many of the windows boarded shut. Her hand is released with a shove as Galinda busies herself with digging something from her small purse. Again Elphaba feels her breath still as she catches a glimpse of the dagger held within.

She's relived when Galinda extracts a rusted set of keys instead. She watches as the blonde takes a look behind them before unlocking the door and roughly pushing Elphaba inside. Elphaba stumbles again, righting herself only to have Galinda grab her by the forearm and drag her up the small stairs inside the cramped foyer. Each steps creaks under their weight, a few even buckling under the strain. Elphaba keeps her eyes to the worn wood floor. There are stains all along the walls near the baseboards and a layer of dirt so thick upon the floor that not even their footprints can reach the wood below.

After ascending several floors they come to a stop. Elphaba counts three other doors along the corridor (other apartments?) before she's ushered into a small room. The door slams shut behind Galinda, who throws the locks closed quickly. There's a bed pressed up against a wall, barely big enough for one. A small suitcase lies open on the end and Elphaba knows immediately that it must belong to the blonde. There is a dress poking out alongside a pair of emerald trousers. She's seen those before on the new Gale Force officers as they march toward the Palace for their induction ceremonies.

"Sit," Galinda commands, pointing to the lone chair standing beside the only table in the room. Elphaba immediately sits herself down, watching as Galinda yanks the scarf off her head and tosses it to the table. The blonde begins to pace frantically back and forth across the small room, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

Galinda can't seem to focus all her thoughts. There are just too many things to think about! Escaping, preparing for escaping, _surviving _after escaping… Galinda's eyes fall on the pair of old servant slippers beside the bed. Her mother! She breathes a sigh of relief knowing her mother is out window-shopping, somewhere in the city. No one will know who she is. She will be safe if she stays quiet. Edlyn used the meager amount of money Morrible paid her to rent this small apartment. It was only temporary, her mother kept saying. Soon they'd be with Fiyero and could live as they were once accustomed.

Galinda wanted to mention she felt more comfortable sleeping along the floor of the filthy apartment then she ever would beside Fiyero in a castle. But her mother was in a rare good mood and she didn't want to ruin it with a simple quip of her tongue.

Galinda wishes she could go back to that moment because right now, with everything falling apart, it seems so trivial a thing.

She's a fugitive, she realizes, as she makes another round across the floor. A fugitive from the very system she wished to belong to!

"Arggg!" Galinda shouts, her steps heavier. She kicks off her heels, frustrated as she tries to think how to escape the city. The longer they stay in one place the easier they will be to find!

Elphaba stays quiet, simply observing Galinda grow more and more distressed. It's hard to imagine the short woman in the pretty dress is actually a soldier. But it's the truth, she realizes. Not only is she just a soldier, but one of the _best_. And she knows that despite Galinda's training and obvious disgust of Elphaba in general, the soldier must have a reason for sparing Elphaba's life.

Whatever it is though, Elphaba is too afraid to ask.

Especially since Galinda has launched her dagger in a fit of rage at the wall beside Elphaba's head.

Galinda sighs, shoulders falling as she lets her body slump onto the bed. "This is hopeless," she mutters. "We're never going to get out of here alive, and even if we do, where will we go? If the Undead don't get us then the Gale Force surely will. Oz, when Morrible hears of this she'll personally see to my death _herself_!"

Elphaba bites her lip as Galinda groans, rolling onto her belly and burying her face within the lumpy pillow. The hood over Elphaba's head feels heavy all of the sudden, suffocating even, and she pulls the burden of the weight behind her neck. Her cheeks flush as she realizes Galinda is watching her curiously with one eye.

Elphaba feels guilty. She remembers how absolutely full of life Galinda was before… well, before the incident with the Wizard. The dejected girl lying on the bed seems like an entirely different person and Elphaba thinks, no, she _knows _it's utterly her fault. If she hadn't tagged along Galinda wouldn't be in this position. Sure the blonde would still be upset, anyone would be at her dream being crushed. But at least she'd be safe.

She'd still be free.

Elphaba has never known freedom and now she feels responsible for stripping it from someone else – not just any someone, but the someone who _saved her life_. She feels remorseful and gut-wrenchingly terrible. Sick at the very thought. What kind of horrible person does this to another? She's no better then Frexspar!

Her life was already in ruins and now she's dragged Galinda down with her.

She's worse than a monster.

Elphaba wets her dry lips, before meekly saying, "I'm sorry." She glances up briefly, hoping to not have offended the solider by speaking. Galinda doesn't move from her spot, one eye still focused on Elphaba. Her expression is absolutely unreadable. Elphaba clears her throat, continuing, this time with her own eyes glued to her hands in her lap. "I s-should just turn myself in. This is all my fault! You shouldn't have to suffer as well. Not after everything you've done for me… you don't deserve this…I'll… I'll go."

Elphaba stands to shaky legs and pushes the chair back into its place beside the table. A bit of sunlight streams in through the tattered curtains, the light glints off the metal of the dagger still embedded in the wall. Elphaba reaches over and tugs it out, surprised by how deep it penetrated. She still feels Galinda watching her, even as she brushes the flakes of paint off the blade and rests the dagger gently atop the table. With that, she turns to leave.

"Wait," she hears Galinda sigh from behind. Elphaba stops, turning just as Galinda sits up along the bed. "That isn't an option."

Elphaba shakes her head. "It's the only way you can have your life back."

Galinda feels her chest tighten at the words. This is the second time Elphaba has been willing to sacrifice herself. She shifts uncomfortably, trying to shake the feeling off as she tells her, "Look, the Wizard obviously wants you alive and the only time we're ever given that type of order is when someone wants to get happy with a scalpel." She is hoping for a reaction out of the green girl. When none comes she asks, "Do you get where I am going with this?"

Elphaba nods, understanding completely. More experiments.

"That's a fate worse than death," Galinda says.

Elphaba shrugs and Galinda can't help but be reminded of the girl from this morning. She's almost surprised as she remembers this is that same girl she was so adamant about keeping safe… the one she thought was so like Arria.

They couldn't be more different now.

"It's not so bad," Elphaba says softly, looking down to Galinda's bare toes. "If he wants me for experiments then I'll gladly surrender. Who knows, maybe he'll uncover something my father never did."

Elphaba has Galinda's full attention after that. She stands to her feet, the implications of Elphaba's words settling uncomfortably under her skin. "What do you mean?"

"My father has been running… _experiments, _or trials so to speak, on me for years now," Elphaba tells her, voice barely above a whisper. She hugs her arms across her chest and Galinda feels a chill roll through her spine at the confession. "Whatever the Wizard could possibly have planned for me…. I'll already know."

Galinda doesn't know how to react. She's aghast that a father could do something so absolutely horrible to his own daughter… and a part of her is aghast that a father could give _life_ to such a daughter. How could he not have immediately drowned her? She's green for Oz's sake! Clearly she's some type of bastard Verdigris kin! Hadn't Elphaba said her mother was bitten whilst pregnant with her?

That's proof enough!

But she understands why he would keep her. A sentient Verdigris, that's what the Wizard had called Elphaba. She's probably the only one of her kind. Any scientist would have done the same.

But the magic… what of that innate power? No Undead has even shown to retain their sorcery abilities.

The soulless can't conjure what's meant for the living.

What does that make Elphaba?

She's green, Galinda admits that much. Yet that seems to be the only commonalty Elphaba has with the Verdigris. Galinda wonders what other traits they share but the more she thinks about it, the more she believes that's where the similarities end. Elphaba simply acts too… too _human _to be of their kind.

And not just human, but one of the most compassionate she's ever met.

Could it be an act?

Sirens blare from outside, shaking Galinda from her thoughts. As she hears them she realizes they need to be on their way… and there's only one safe place they can go.

"We're going to the Vinkus," Galinda says. Elphaba's eyes widen, surprised. "My fiancé is there and he will surely take us in. We'll figure things out once were there."

"How do we get out of the city though?" Elphaba asks.

Galinda thinks for a moment, eyes cast out the tiny window beside the bed. Through the boards nailed across the frame she can see a few Gale Force officers marching down the street, rifles at the ready.

Galinda rolls her eyes at the display. If the Wizard thinks a few boys with guns will be enough to scare her then he doesn't quite know exactly whom he's dealing with. As the men move on, Galinda's eyes fall on the sewage drain they pass over.

She grins.

Perfect.

Galinda rushes to her travel case, quickly undoing the buttons of her dress.

"S-sweet Oz," Elphaba sputters, turning her gaze away as Galinda disrobes. A heat settles on her cheeks, her pulse racing as she stares at a dirty spot on the wall ahead. "What are you doing?" she manages to ask.

"Changing," Galinda replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. She kicks the dress aside as she grabs the green trousers from her suitcase and slips them up over her legs. She secures her belt around her waist, tucking her pistol into its usual hidden holster. The golden colored blouse is thrown on next, followed by her boots. She hopes word hasn't spread to the outlying camps yet. If she can manage to get them out of the city she can easily get them the supplies they'll need.

If word has spread… well, it might be a _little _harder.

As Galinda finishes up her last lace she looks up to Elphaba. The over-sized coat draped over the girl's shoulders definitely needs to go. New shoes are in order as well or at least something in her size. Galinda is not about to be slowed down. Not by something as trivial as proper attire. She makes a mental note to gather some clothes for Elphaba when she gets to the camp. "Done," she says standing to her feet.

Elphaba turns around, surprised to find Galinda looking every bit the soldier she knows the girl to be. It's intimidating, actually. She doesn't have much time to take in the uniform before Galinda stalks over and begins yanking the coat off Elphaba's shoulders. Too stunned to protest Elphaba allows the coat to slip from her arms, feeling suddenly exposed without the heavy fabric resting over her slim body.

Without so much as an explanation Galinda tosses the coat aside before throwing Elphaba her bag and scarf. Elphaba barely manages to get the scarf wrapped around half her face before Galinda shoves her out the apartment door.

* * *

><p>Elphaba doesn't know why Galinda has dragged them down in the city's sewer system but she trusts the blonde knows what she's doing. At each split in the tunnels Galinda spends no more than a few seconds stopped before deciding on a path. As they wade though the ankle-deep water Elphaba can hear the crowds gathering in the streets above. Their voices echo throughout the dark tunnels.<p>

Galinda seems unfazed though, almost stoic as she guides them onward. Elphaba takes what little comfort she can from the soldier's decisiveness.

At least one of them is in control of their emotions.

That is until they come to a stop and Galinda lets out a string of curses at the sight of what lies ahead.

Elphaba looks over the blonde's shoulders to the thick grate separating them from the land beyond the city walls.

"Come on," Galinda says, still very much agitated as she forcibly grabs a hold of Elphaba's wrist and all but drags her to the blocked exit. The sun is high in the sky, Galinda notes, they still have plenty of time to find a camp before dusk. If only they could get past the bars. She shakes the iron gate, hoping it to give under her pressure but the bars remain in place. Her eyes scan the outer edges, not surprised to find the rivets evenly spaced and many in number.

This isn't just a simple sewage drain gate.

These bars were put in place to keep Undead out.

Elphaba hasn't seen outside the city walls in nearly a decade. A small pool of water rests just below the tunnel exit and it makes her nervous. She cannot swim and hopes the water is not too deep. She can see the edge of the land dipping down into the brown muck along the water's edge a few yards off. It's not too far away but to Elphaba it might as well be the other side of Oz. As she looks past the water she's nothing short of awed by the sight. Tall grass stretches out as far as her eye can see. A few trees dot the land, bent and twisting high into the sky. She remembers seeing those trees as her father led them into the city. They were far shorter then. She'd wanted to ask him what they were called but she knew better than to ask such a foolish question.

She'd already been struck across the face for asking if their new home had a garden.

Elphaba presses her forehead against the gate, the cool metal quickly bringing her back to reality.

They're trapped.

"All right, Witch," Galinda says. "Open it."

Elphaba pulls back from the bars and raises an eyebrow. "Open it? How?"

Galinda rolls her eyes. "With _magic_, you idiot, what else?"

Elphaba turns her eyes to the floor. "I…I can't."

Galinda groans. "What do you mean, _you can't_? You just did magic not an hour ago!"

"I-I don't know how I did that!"

Galinda pulls her pistol from its holster and points it straight at Elphaba's head, "Will _this _help motivate you?"

"Please," Elphaba whimpers, trying to keep as still as possible. "I c-can't control it. It just happens!"

"How? How does it happen?"

"When I'm s-scared," Elphaba confesses feeling exactly just that in this moment. "It happens when I feel like I'm in… w-when my life is in d-danger."

_Then what do you think this is, then? _Galinda wonders with a rol of her eyes. Her expression falls at the lack of energy surrounding them. A change of tactics is necessary. She quickly pockets her pistol and then punches the green girl hard across her jaw.

Elphaba feels her head splitting open and pain flooding her senses. She groans loudly, cowering against the gate, trying to understand why Galinda is so angry with her. But her mind is clouded, still reeling from the hit, making it nearly impossible to think. She breathes deeply, desperately trying to push the pain aside as she stands back to her feet, facing Galinda once more.

Galinda feels a pang of guilt at the trail of blood leaking down from Elphaba's nose. She quickly buries those feelings and tells herself it was necessary. The only way Elphaba will ever unleash her power is if she feels herself to be in danger. Galinda needs to get her to that point… no matter the cost.

As Elphaba's eyes finally focus on Galinda's, the blonde pulls her pistol out once more. A shiver rolls up Elphaba's spine as she feels the cool weapon press under her chin. She's instantly reminded of the thief from the alley. Her heart stilling at the flash of the memory.

"Open it," Galinda growls, forcing her pistol further into the green skin. She watches, as Elphaba's knuckles turn white, her grip on the bars behind her back obviously tightening out of panic. There's only one way they will make it out of this tunnel, Galinda realizes, and that is with magic. A smile curves to her lips as she clicks the hammer of her pistol down.

Elphaba inhales sharply at the sound. She doesn't know how to access her magic, let alone use it in such a direct way. How can Galinda expect her to open this gate? She must know it's impossible! "_I… can't_," she breathes.

Galinda rushes forward, slamming Elphaba up against the bars with her shoulder, a punch soon following to her gut.

Galinda tucks the gun into her belt and winces as Elphaba coughs out and doubles over to the wet ground. She doesn't give Elphaba the time to catch her breath as she grabs the green girl by the throat, lifting her to her feet once more and pinning her to the bars. Elphaba sputters, hands instantly coming to wrap around Galinda's wrists. She tries frantically to pry the hands from around her throat but Galinda's strength is unwavering. Elphaba gasps, trying to force air into her starved lungs.

Galinda refuses to look at Elphaba, eyes instead focused to the bars just over the green girls twitching shoulders. She feels the air around them seem to come to life, charged with Elphaba's magic. Galinda closes her eyes tight, squeezing Elphaba's throat harder. She can feel the girl's pulse pumping madly beneath her thumbs, the muscles in her neck straining to be set free.

Elphaba feels her magic manifesting, even as her body struggles to remain conscious. Her vision is clouding, tears flooding her eyes. She feels her grip on Galinda's wrists loosening, her mind growing hazy.

She wanted this, she thinks. She wanted to die by Galinda's hands.

_It doesn't hurt any less, though._

Elphaba's eyes fall closed as her hands slip, limp down to her sides. She vaguely hears metal cracking, the bars behind her back snapping under her weight.

Galinda screams.

And then she's falling.

Free, _finally._

Then nothing.

Galinda hits the water below not a second after Elphaba. She kicks up to the surface, taking a lung full of air as she treads in the filthy water. Her heart is racing. She hadn't expected the bars to simply just… just disintegrate as they did! She'd been leaning all her weight on Elphaba and hadn't imagined they would fall into the water.

Her stomach will be stinging for a long time tonight... but probably not as much as Elphaba's.

Galinda brushes some hair from her face, looking around for Elphaba. The green girl hasn't surfaced yet.

She also was barely conscious when they tumbled down.

A shiver passes over Galinda that has nothing to do with the temperature of the water. She takes a deep breath before diving into the pool. She can barely see her hands in front of her face as she swims down, trying to find even a hint of green in the dirty runoff. Something brushes against her arm and Galinda turns to see wisps of black tendrils sinking further into the pool. Her lungs burn as she kicks down, Elphaba's hair swirling in the dark water below. Galinda urges herself further, kicking harder as she reaches and grabs a fistful of Elphaba's dress.

They break the surface not long after; Galinda struggling to keep them both afloat as she desperately fills her empty lungs with much-needed air. She manages to get them to shore, wheezing as she turns Elphaba onto her back.

The green girl's chest isn't moving.

"Fuck," Galinda mutters, scrambling to her knees beside Elphaba's body. She never paid much attention in their medic classes. The only time she ever gave care to their lessons was when it could benefit her own health. What was the point of helping others? If they were stupid enough to injure themselves then they weren't worth her time. How many stories had she heard of others turning back to help their friends only to find themselves surrounded by Undead not a second later?

No. Galinda refused to be that person.

She has no idea how to even begin breathing life back into Elphaba. She vaguely remembers a photograph in her book depicting a man kissing another man. She and Fiyero had a good laugh about it until he was partnered with Crope who couldn't have looked more pleased at the pairing. Galinda snuck away from the class shortly thereafter to instead practice something worthwhile.

Was she really supposed to put her mouth up against the green girls?

She couldn't possibly… Elphaba clearly carries the disease. She'll surely turn then too!

Instead Galinda brushes the wet hair from Elphaba's face, surprised to find the girls once vibrant green skin so pale. _She looks so different_, she thinks as her stomach knots uncomfortably. She tries not to think how Elphaba actually looks dead. That would mean she'd purposely murdered an innocent life…

_Does a green woman even count though?_

She thinks. _One of them._

Is the part of Elphaba that's partial human enough?

The magic is.

Galinda finds Elphaba's chest easily enough, positioning her hands over Elphaba's heart. She's about to push down, hoping the pressure will force the water from Elphaba's lungs, but before she can even move Elphaba sits up suddenly, gasping for air and knocking Galinda from her knees and onto the muddy ground.

Elphaba clutches a hand tightly to her chest, breathing deeply while the other rests on the dirt beside her to support her weight. Water dribbles out from her mouth; the taste is absolutely rancid. Elphaba chokes on some more, coughing it out as she finally regains control over her breathing.

Galinda scrambles to her feet; relieved to see Elphaba is all right. She tells herself the feeling of elation coursing through her so strongly it nearly makes her dizzy is because she still has her connection to magic.

Without Elphaba, her last chance would surely be lost.

"You're ok," Galinda says with a grin. "Great, so now we can get going."

Galinda doesn't bother helping Elphaba up, even as Elphaba stares, stunned at Galinda's indifference. She knows Galinda must have pulled her from the water… but the fact that she had nearly_ killed_ her beforehand… that just leaves Elphaba feeling all kinds of unsettled and _exceedingly _confused.

Galinda knows if she turns to look at Elphaba the guilt will come rearing its ugly head inside of her again. Instead she chooses to focus on the filth in her hair. Her uniform is nothing short of ruined as well, and her boots will reek of sewage for days. Galinda groans as she picks some unidentifiable goo from her hair and flings it into the tall grass.

She hopes whichever camp they come to first has a shower.

She _desperately _needs one.

Elphaba moans, muscles straining as she stands to her feet. A familiar weight settles along her shoulders as she does. She looks down, glad to find her bag still secured across her chest. She hopes the water hasn't ruined too much of her research. After checking a few of the journals she's pleased to find the ink still legible despite the wet pages. As she follows a ways behind Galinda she reaches into the bag, relieved that her mother's bottle is still there, untouched and unharmed by the fall. She'll worry about Galinda later, she thinks.

Because with every step forward, she takes another step away from the Emerald City.

Another step away from her awful past.

* * *

><p>The sun is just starting to dip below the horizon as Galinda comes to a stop along a small clump of trees ahead of Elphaba. Curious, Elphaba approaches the soldier, careful to keep her steps as quiet as she can. When Elphaba reaches Galinda's side she looks ahead to where the blonde is staring. A small camp rests at the edge of a clearing ahead, smoke slowly rising into the sky from the dying fires.<p>

Galinda turns to Elphaba, motioning for her to scoot behind the blonde. Elphaba complies, moving to rest along the trunk of the closest tree. "Here is what is going to happen," Galinda says, voice commanding yet hushed. "You will not move from this spot until I get back."

Galinda waits for Elphaba to nod but Elphaba just continues to stare expectantly at Galinda.

Galinda narrows her eyes, irritated. "This is the part where you prove to me you understand, or shall I simplify it further for you, Verdigris?"'

Elphaba swallows nervously, and shakes her head.

"Good," Galinda says.

"Why do you need to go in there though?" Elphaba asks, voice cracking. Galinda glares but Elphaba continues anyway. "What if they _know _of us?"

"I'll _deal _with it."

Elphaba motions to Galinda's waist. "You have a pistol. What more could we need?"

Galinda rolls her eyes at Elphaba. "You don't know anything about life outside the city, do you?"

Elphaba turns her eyes to the ground. "I j-just don't think it's…s-safe for you to go alone."

Galinda is about to reply with another equally biting retort but holds her tongue when Elphaba adds,

"W-what if you don't c-come back?" she says, daring to look up at Galinda as she whispers, "I'm not l-like you. I can't… I can't _s-save _you."

Galinda feels her smirk sliding off her face. She doesn't except Elphaba to come after her, Oz, she wouldn't even go after her if their roles were reversed. How can Elphaba even be thinking of trying to save her after what she just put her through? Elphaba looks absolutely terrified at the prospect of Galinda not returning. Again Galinda's gut twists. She may not be one for apologies but Galinda knows there is something she can do for Elphaba. There is something she can offer the frightened green girl and hopefully it'll stop her stupid stomach from feeling so weird. Galinda pulls her gun from her holster and holds it out to Elphaba. "Take it," she says.

Elphaba shakes her head, pushing the gun back.

"Look, it's not for what you're imagining. The last thing I want is for you to fire it." Galinda explains. "Gunfire is loud, it attracts the Undead. We're trained not to use them out here unless it's _absolutely _necessary. Think of it as a last resort."

Elphaba imagines all the scenarios Galinda could be thinking of. But only one stands out. She understands and gives a slight nod. "It's meant for me," she says softly.

Galinda nods, solemn. "There are only a few bullets in the barrel." As an afterthought she adds, "Try not to miss."

Elphaba gulps, "you want me to… to keep it? Shouldn't you have it instead?"

"No," Galinda tells her. "It's no use to me in there and I have my dagger anyway. But if some Verd-Undead, if some Undead do arrive and I am not back in time… you know what to do."

_Kill myself_, Elphaba thinks. She allows Galinda to put the gun into her hands. It feels heavier than it looks and Elphaba knows it's because of the burden attached. Galinda doesn't look back as she takes off toward the camp.

Elphaba looks down to the pistol, to the gun that could save her from the same fate her mother suffered, her Nanny… from the same fate so many fall to, everyday.

Elphaba thinks being given the gun is by far the grandest gesture she's ever been shown and ever will be.

* * *

><p>The thieving doesn't go as Galinda plans. Apparently word from the Wizard spreads faster than the legs of the prostitutes at the Philosophy Club. She's immediately found and shackled before she even knows what's happened. Galinda sighs as she leans against one of the wood paneled walls to the side of the carriage she's been thrown into. The metal cuffs along her wrists irritate her skin and she wishes she could itch them right off.<p>

She wishes she had Elphaba's magic.

She'd be free in an instant if that were the case.

She also hopes the green girl has enough common sense not to come looking for her. Though a small part, one Galinda will never admit exists, hopes otherwise. The green girl would be so terrified of seeing Galinda captured that her magic would surely manifest itself in explosive ways.

Hopefully she'd be spared from the onslaught like before.

Galinda lets out frustrated sigh. It's well past dusk, the sun having set long ago. She can see the beginnings of the moon creeping into view between the bars of the carriage door. She hasn't heard the faint sound of her pistol being fired yet.

It worries and calms her at the same time.

Hearing it would mean Elphaba was dead. That she'd rescued the girl for _nothing_. But the lack of it's faded sound could mean so much more….

That the Undead got to her before she could even use it.

That perhaps even another officer ambushed her.

Or that she's given up hope of Galinda's return and left without her…

Galinda suddenly feels like she needs to get out before it's too late.

A guard makes another round in front of her carriage cell and peeks in to make sure she's still there. Galinda rolls her eyes. Where else could she have possibly gone? She notices his eyes linger along her legs and for once Galinda is more than happy for the tight trousers. She shifts a bit in her seat, letting her legs spread open a little further. The guard visibly blushes, turning on his heel.

Galinda smiles as she notices a familiar set of keys poking out from the top of his belt. Her grin only widens more when he doesn't resume his rounds. She stands to her feet and makes her way toward the door. "Hey," she whispers, hoping her voice sounds far huskier then she imagines. If anything she thinks she sounds a bit hoarse.

The guard turns his head, eyes focused on the ground but clearly waiting for her to continue speaking.

"You know, they'll probably put me to death." Galinda says softly.

"You _deserve_ _it_," the guard mutters, eyes focused ahead once more, shoulders squared.

"Do I?" Galinda sniffles. She exhales, making sure it's shaky and that the warm air reaches his ear. She suppresses the smirk wanting to form on her lips as the guard's shoulders stiffen. "I just…" she trails off purposefully, voice growing quieter.

The guard spares her a glance, and when he sees the tears streaming down Galinda's face he moves closer. "You just what?"

Galinda looks from left to right, then straight into the man's dark eyes. "I just… I mean, I'd like…I _wish_…"

He moves closer still and Galinda whimpers, leaning her forehead against the bars. The guard takes the last step separating him from the door and Galinda quickly shoots her arms out through the bars, grabbing a hold of the man's collar and yanking hard. His head collides with the bars, eyes instantly rolling to the back of his head as his body slumps in Galinda's grip, unconscious. She quickly fishes the keys from his belt before her hold on him fails entirely.

_Oz, he's another clunker_, she thinks as he lands in a heap along the floor. She undoes the iron around her wrists before unlocking the door and jumping down from the carriage. Before she can head off toward Elphaba she needs to get her dagger back. It was the last thing her father ever gave her and she isn't about to part with it so soon.

Galinda keeps to the edge of the tents, careful not to let herself be seen in the light of the fires. She knows the armory tent must be around somewhere. The smell of gunpowder and leather is too thick in the air for it not to be. Hopefully once she's done there she can steal a horse or two.

As she rounds another tent though she collides with something solid, bouncing back a step.

"Galinda!" Elphaba's voice says quietly, yet with absolute relief. "You're all right, thank Oz!"

"Of course I am," Galinda huffs, straightening her blouse. She's relieved to see the green girl is all right as well but is more so annoyed to find her snooping around the camp. She narrows her eyes up at Elphaba who all but deflates at the look. "Didn't I tell you to _stay put_?"

Elphaba sighs, giving a nod of her head. She takes a step closer to Galinda, her brow knitting as she tells her earnestly, "I know, but it had been so long and then I snuck closer and overheard some men talking about capturing you and I just… I _had _to try something!"

"Oh yes, brilliant job you're doing there," Galinda scoffs.

"I'm not you…" Elphaba says softly.

"_Clearly_," Galinda grumbles.

"What now?"

"Follow me, and don't do anything _stupid_."

Elphaba falls back behind Galinda once more, mimicking the soldier's moves as they make their way to the armory tent. Galinda can't help but roll her eyes as she watches Elphaba scurry clumsily behind her. The girl is truly hopeless.

Galinda motions for Elphaba to stay put (she means it this time!) and Elphaba, _thankfully_, nods in understanding. Galinda disappears under the flap to the armory tent not a second later. Elphaba lets out a breath. The past few hours have been nothing short of torturous. At first she was anxiously awaiting Galinda's arrival back at the trees and then she was anxiously hoping the sounds coming from the grass fields weren't those of the Undead. She'd headed into the camp at the sudden snap of a twig from off in the distance.

She'd hoped Galinda wouldn't be too mad that she'd defied her orders.

And after overhearing of the blonde's capture! She couldn't possibly just stand aside.

Though after their brief reunion, Elphaba realizes it was a futile effort. Of course Galinda was more than capable of freeing herself.

She is the best after all.

Galinda emerges from the tent a few moments later looking ever-so-pleased with herself. A quiver of arrows and bow are slung over her shoulders, a pair of boots and backpack held in each hand. She tosses the boots to Elphaba.

"These should fit better," she says by way of explanation. Elphaba slips her father's shoes off and quickly dons the pair Galinda brought. They fit snug and warm around her feet. She wonders how Galinda could have guessed her size. "We'll worry about the dress later. Right now we need to get as far from here as possible."

The girls barely make it a few steps into the tall grass when a voice commands from behind, "Hey, you there, _stop_!"

Galinda groans, turning with her hands raised. She can't believe she's been so unobservant tonight. This is technically the _third _time she's been ambushed today. It's beginning to get embarrassing, she thinks.

Thankfully it's just one guard.

This should be easy.

But Elphaba doesn't seem to think so. To her this is the end. They've been caught and will now surely be taken to the Wizard. Her breaths come short, the air crackling with energy once more.

"W-what are you doing?" The guard stutters. "Stop it!" he commands, pointing his rifle to Elphaba.

It's the opening Galinda's been waiting for. She quickly ducks to her knees and launches her dagger into the man's chest. With a gasp he squeezes the trigger of his rifle, the shot ringing out across the camp as the bullet flies over Galinda's head. His body falls dead to the ground not a second later.

"Shit!" Galinda exclaims as she rushes to the downed guard. She catches a glimpse of at least a dozen men and women heading her way as she pulls out her dagger.

Elphaba is rooted to her spot as more shouts rise into the night. Her eyes dart to Galinda as the blonde leaps to her feet, sprinting away from the guards quickly approaching. Elphaba feels a rush of heat through her body as Galinda sprints toward her, eyes frantic. "Run!" she shouts to Elphaba.

But Elphaba cannot move.

The guards are so close, their rifles pointed directly at Galinda.

If they fire they will surely kill her.

Elphaba won't let that happen.

She clenches her fists and slams her eyes shut as the heat engulfing her body finally becomes too much to bear.

And just as suddenly as it leaves her a wall of flames erupts, spreading quickly in a line through the camp, separating the girls from the guards.

Galinda stumbles as she feels the heat licking at her back. She whips around to see what's happened, astonished by the flames swirling high into to the sky. She looks over to Elphaba, the green girl's eyes unmoving, almost as if in a trance. Galinda can hear the screams of the guards, can smell the burning tents… the scorched flesh of the men and women not lucky enough to get out of the way in time. Galinda jogs up to Elphaba, shaking the green woman's shoulders.

Elphaba blinks, her eyes trying to focus once more. When her vision settles on the wall of flames devouring the camp, Elphaba brings a hand up to her heart, hoping to still its frantic beats. Her mind is instantly taken back to that night at Colwen Grounds… when fire consumed her home.

_Nanny._

Elphaba inhales sharply at the memory and for a brief, fleeting, moment she swears the air smells of burning strawberries.

"Elphaba," Galinda calls to her. Elphaba turns to the blonde. Galinda is not surprised to see tears collecting in the brown eyes before her. "Let's go."

"B-but," Elphaba stutters, looking back to the destruction she's caused. To the lives in danger because of _her _magic. Screams echo loudly into the night, paining Elphaba further. "I did this…"

"We have to go," Galinda says, tugging on Elphaba's wrist. "A horde will be here soon."

Elphaba can't move though. She's never hurt anyone before. And the screams! She knows those screams… she knows what follows them. She's crying openly before she can even stop herself. "I-I've hurt so _many_…"

"_Listen to me_," Galinda growls. She turns Elphaba around to face her, gripping the green girl tightly by her arms. She keeps her expression absolutely devoid of emotion as she tells her fiercely, "if you want to survive out here then _get used to it_."


	7. A Cure

**Chapter 7**

_A Cure_

Galinda and Elphaba walk in silence, the latter a few paces behind. Elphaba can't stop thinking about the fire. It consumes her thoughts just as thoroughly as it consumed the camp. Galinda told her that the officers would be well taken care of but that doesn't push aside the pain she knows they suffered. All at her hands.

She didn't even know what she was doing!

It was as if the fire burning inside her had escaped and try as she might she would never be able to control it. At the time she wasn't even sure if she wanted to. That thought alone plagues Elphaba even now. The thought that she wanted to save Galinda's life badly enough she destroyed others in the wake of her power. She's not a monster... she's not like her father.

She never meant to hurt anyone...

How can Galinda brush what's happened so easily aside? Does the blonde truly disregard life so much? Elphaba doesn't think she'll ever get used to this feeling twisting in her gut. And what more, she never wants to feel it again. Instead she thinks of the good that's come from their escape.

She thinks of Galinda. Brave Galinda, who had come to her rescue -_ once again_ - when that guard had pointed his rifle at her.

Elphaba owes so much to the beautiful soldier ahead of her. She only wishes she knew how she could repay her in kind.

"We'll stop here for the night," Galinda says, pulling Elphaba from her thoughts. Elphaba looks around. It's dark in the forest, the moon barely peeking through the thick canopy of leaves above. Elphaba's skin still feels warm in the night air as she takes the survival pack off and pulls her research bag from over her shoulders. She feels instantly lighter without the burden of both objects; a fleeting wisp of the freedom she craved passes over her suddenly.

It all but disappears as she sinks to the ground, remembering the fire once more.

Galinda is too busy checking their perimeter to pay Elphaba's sullen demeanor attention. She can hear the tell tale signs of life calling out into the night, easing her nerves. An owl hoots in the distance, a few leaves rustle in the trees above. Gliders perhaps, Galinda thinks.

The animals feel safe.

Silence would mean otherwise.

Silence follows the Undead, cloaking all life that surrounds them for miles.

She knows so long as the forest is alive with noise that her choice in camp is all right.

They will be safe tonight.

Galinda finds Elphaba easily enough when she turns around. The green girl is not hard to miss, all curled up in a ball with her back against a dead tree trunk, research bag clutched to her chest. The position she's contorted herself into almost seems natural. Galinda is more unsettled by Elphaba's brown eyes, which are wide open, staring unfocused at a spot deep in the forest.

She wants to ask what's bothering Elphaba but thinks better of it. She already knows anyway.

Besides, she's not here to bond with the green girl.

And since she _clearly_ won't be learning any magic either, there simply is no point to being nice.

Or even remotely interested in what the green freak is so worried about.

That doesn't stop Galinda from being curious though.

_Know thy enemy, and all that_, she thinks.

She sits down a good distance from Elphaba as quietly as she can. But the slight noise snaps Elphaba from her memories, her eyes quickly darting to Galinda.

Galinda clears her throat under the intensity of the startled gaze. "So," she says calmly, waiting a second to continue once she hears the noise of the forest resume around them. "I'll keep watch tonight; you're not quite… _capable _of handling a situation should one arise."

Elphaba sits up, bag held loosely in her lap. "No, that's not fair to you. I can take first shift, if you'd l-like? This way if I grow tired I can just wake you… or if anything were to occur."

Galinda squints her eyes at Elphaba, wondering where this sudden courage is coming from. Elphaba flinches under her gaze, turning her eyes to her lap. _So much for that_, Galinda smirks. She taps her chest twice, "The best, remember? I can't trust you to stay up. Just go to sleep, you'll be of more use well rested then fatigued."

"But what about you?" Elphaba asks softly, concerned.

Galinda feels a prickle along her spine but covers her unease with a chuckle and says, "Trust me; I've handled far worse conditions with _far _less sleep."

Elphaba stares, worried, at Galinda for a moment, gauging whether to offer sharing duty again or to just acquiesce to the blonde's obvious need for control. The longer she stares the softer Galinda's eyes seem to grow. She can see the lines of her forehead smooth, the strain of her frown give. And with a blink of blue eyes the resentment and wrinkles come back as strong as ever.

Elphaba sighs, lying back down. She knows there is only ever going to be one way with Galinda. "Thank you," she says.

Galinda nods, turning to look anywhere but at the green girl. She can't believe she let her guard down like that. All over a stupid look.

She really should just leave Elphaba here and go on her way. Surely she can find someone more capable of teaching her magic once she gets to the Vinkus since Elphaba is so _clearly_ unable to. Fiyero's family must know _someone_. If there will be any perk to their marriage that might as well be it.

As if by some freakish irony Elphaba chooses then to say, "Your fiancé is a very lucky man."

Galinda almost thinks Elphaba can read her mind but the expression of genuine admiration on Elphaba's face indicates otherwise. Galinda wonders how someone so tortured as a child could be so empathetic.

Elphaba must be mad.

"Go to sleep," Galinda says meaning for it to come out far harsher than the light whisper it does.

Elphaba feels her heart beat faster at the almost tender tone of Galinda's voice. She dares to say something further, "_I_ am lucky to have met you."

Galinda pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes turning to the sky. The next words out of her mouth come out as nothing more than a groan. "Don't say that."

Elphaba sits up; the sudden need to get everything she's been meaning to tell Galinda all night off her chest. She keeps her voice low as she says with a faint smile, "You've saved my life multiple times, given me new shoes when I don't deserve anything _near _as lavish and now you're sacrificing again. All because of _me_," Elphaba says, swallowing the thick lump forming in her throat. "I-I'm sorry I cannot teach you magic but I _promise_ I will try to control my power so that I may be able to one day. It's the very least I can do after you've done so much."

And there it is again, Galinda groans inwardly. The guilt, this time far stronger then it ever was before. She hates that Elphaba can so easily make her feel this way. No one has ever caused her to show such… such pity. Yes, Galinda thinks, that is what she is feeling. It must be pity. Pity for the poor experimented upon odd green girl.

_Diseased_ odd green girl, she amends as she scoots a little further from Elphaba.

Elphaba notices Galinda widening the space that separates them. It pains her that Galinda still feels so repulsed but she vows not to let it show. Instead she settles back to the ground once more, this time using the Gale Force pack as a makeshift pillow for her head. Elphaba buries her face along the worn fabric, trying to hide the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

_I'm pathetic_, Elphaba thinks, turning her back to Galinda. _Like a child crying over dropped candy_. _How stupid._

She knows it was foolish to have wished for more from Galinda. What more Elphaba thinks she could possibly wish for, she's not entirely sure. But more is what she hoped for anyway.

She falls into a fretful sleep a short while later, still faced away from the soldier.

Galinda watches as Elphaba's shoulders relax and her breathing deepens; only once she's sure the green girl is asleep does she finally let out a long shaky breath. Galinda has no idea how one person can make her feel so incredibly on edge. No one on Oz, aside from her mother perhaps, has ever gotten quite under her skin like Elphaba.

It frightens Galinda a bit to think about the effect Elphaba has on her. She's fully conscious of the feelings. Oz, are they ever there. It's as if her senses are constantly on alert whenever she's anywhere near the green girl.

But Galinda tells herself it's just her defenses. She's afraid of becoming like Elphaba.

Her body is reacting this way to protect itself.

She won't allow herself to be turned.

No matter how harmless, dare she think sweet, Elphaba appears all snuggled up to that survival pack.

Galinda gasps in disgust at the thought that just crossed her mind. She silently gags, and shakes the images from her mind.

Her eyes land on Elphaba's shoulder bag. Besides, she thinks, there is something far more worthwhile she could be doing with her time. Galinda scoots closer, careful not make a sound, assuming Elphaba to be a light sleeper. She takes the green girls bag and sits back down against a nearby tree with it. The bag is heavy and when she opens the clasp she finds it absolutely filled with pages upon pages of notes and scientific equations that she can't even begin to wrap her mind around.

Most of the pages are still damp, some of the ink running but still legible.

She notices a good portion of the pages inside the notebooks seem to be in a different handwriting from the others. Sharper, and distinctly flourished. It reminds Galinda of Morrible's penmanship. Excessively frilled yet impeccably to the point. Galinda feels a chill settle over her as she realizes this must be Elphaba's father's writing. Along the edges are notes, scrunched to fit between the margins, or anywhere they can find space to breathe. The ink strokes are curvy, light and quick, almost as if written in a great deal of hurry.

One line of particular interest jumps out at Galinda as her eyes skim over the note:

_Test failure: Lion Cub near death after exposure to Undead blood sample in Frexspar Trial num. 21. Refer pg.15. Father outraged by results. Animals still immune to disease. Will free Cub._

Galinda knows that Animals have been scarce throughout Oz since the scourge began but she hadn't thought them immune to the peril.

And for Elphaba to risk her father's wrath to save one so young…

Galinda turns the page, distracting herself with more of the journal before the thought can fully sink in.

Elphaba stirs in her sleep, curling further into herself. Galinda stops breathing and stills at the movement, hand hovering over the next page. She lets out a slow breath as Elphaba relaxes once more. It's no surprise really, she thinks, that Elphaba would be plagued with night terrors.

Who wouldn't be if they had the man who wrote these books as a father?

Galinda is well aware her own father was anything but perfect. But he was a good man, he meant well and provided the best he could for her in life. Galinda doesn't understand how someone could sacrifice so much for another. Let alone another who showed such little regard for all he's done. For the life he left to keep his family safe... to keep Galinda safe. She never thought she'd meet a soul like him. It bothers Galinda that Elphaba is the only one she can think of.

The blonde suppresses a shudder as she puts the journal back inside the bag. Her hand brushes along something cool and she wraps her fingers around the small object. Galinda pulls her hand from the bag, the green bottle resting against her palm. She knows Elphaba believes this to be the cause of the Undead but Galinda fails to see how something as simple as a _drink _could turn a human into something so vile.

She's seen her fair share of drunks and never once has someone tried to dine upon another's brains because of a bit of alcohol.

A bit of alcohol and some spices; that's what the Wizard said the liquid was. Galinda holds the bottle to the meager light, swirling what little substance is left inside. She can't tell if it's green or if it's just the bottle making it glow emerald in the moonlight. Could the Wizard really be responsible?

Galinda brings it back down, careful not to let the stopper out as she inspects the bottle further, ever curious.

"No!" She hears Elphaba shout. Galinda barely has time to lift her head when she's suddenly tackled to the ground. Her instincts kick in and she turns the body atop hers over, wrapping her legs across the knees as she grabs both her assailants' wrists and pins them to the ground.

The bottle rolls, forgotten, to the ground beside the two bodies.

Galinda is almost surprised when she looks down to find Elphaba's familiar brown eyes staring up at her in shock.

"What's gotten into you?" Galinda demands, brows dipped low over her fiery eyes. "_Have you lost your mind_?" she hisses.

Elphaba pants quickly below her, shaking her head. "I-I'm sorry."

Galinda takes a breath, noticing the blush creeping along Elphaba's cheeks. She feels Elphaba squirm beneath her before growing suddenly still. Galinda realizes she's hovering mere inches above the green girl, practically _lying _on top of her. She can't scramble to her feet fast enough.

"I'm sorry, Miss… Miss Up-Upland," Elphaba apologizes again, picking up the bottle as Galinda brushes frantically at her body.

Galinda looks over to Elphaba, upset that the guilt is deciding to reappear again. She sighs. "No, I shouldn't have been snooping. You had every right to… _you know_."

Elphaba blushes some more as she moves back to her tree again, nodding. She's never felt someone so closely before, even if it was all a mistake. The brief moment made Elphaba's entire body feel as though it was ablaze. It frightens her how much it excited her then. She sinks back to the ground, stuffing the bottle back into her bag and hugging the fabric tightly to her chest. She wishes her heart would stop beating so loudly; she's positive if Galinda listens closely enough she's sure to hear it.

Galinda finally relaxes as she sits back to the forest floor.

Elphaba. Green awkward Elphaba managed to surprise her. Galinda can't help the laugh that escapes her. Elphaba turns, confused at the sound.

"I may have underestimated you," Galinda says with a growing smirk. "No one has been able to sneak up on me like that in _quite_ a while."

Elphaba smiles shyly, "I apologize again. It was all a big misunderstanding. I thought you were about to _drink_ some."

Galinda's expression suddenly turns sour. "Why would I ever drink something that would turn me into one of _them_?"

Elphaba gulps, eyes back to the ground once again. "I didn't think you trusted me," she says, sheepish.

Galinda feels a bit foolish realizing Elphaba is correct. She hasn't given the girl much reason to believe that she trusts her. And if they are to continue on this path together to the Vinkus… well, than perhaps it's time she starts. They don't have to braid each other's hair or anything but at the very least she could be cordial and a _little_ more trusting.

Besides, rule 14 of survival is that if one wishes to survive, one needs to communicate.

She's seen one too many groups quickly dissolve into arguments only to be ambushed by Undead moments later.

Granted, she's had her fair share of arguments with classmates in the field, but she always pushed them aside quickly. They could tear at each other's throats later.

In a week she and Elphaba can be in the Vinkus. Maybe less if she can manage to find a horse or two.

Galinda looks back over to Elphaba as she thinks of something to say, anything to distract the reclusive girl from her current thoughts. Her eyes land on the bag held tightly in green hands. "I read some of your research," Galinda says as she takes a few arrows from the quiver and begins inspecting the feathers. From the corner of her eye she sees Elphaba sit up, interested. "Could you… explain it to me?"

Elphaba's smile is so big Galinda can't imagine her green face can possibly contain it. "Of course!" Elphaba says, digging back into her bag. She extracts a few books and spreads them out along the ground. She gives one a gentle nudge toward Galinda who suddenly realizes the distance between them is rather unnecessary. Perhaps a few feet will suffice. She sits back down, arms length from Elphaba and picks up the first journal.

Once the book is in her hands Elphaba tells her everything. She explains about the funny orbs hidden within Ozian blood. How the Undead differ from those still with souls. Of the properties of the elixir and the green tendrils that seem to swim inside. Galinda didn't think she'd be this fascinated by what Elphaba is telling her. If anything she was fully prepared to tune the green girl out when she started speaking. But Elphaba is so passionate about the research, so adamant about what she's uncovered.

Galinda can't help as she leans in, listening intently to every word. It's nothing short of impressive what Elphaba's had to endure to get to this point. All of the suffering just so others could perhaps one day live free of the Undead curse. Galinda thinks if she were in Elphaba's shoes, she would have ended her life long ago.

What point is there to living if everyone will only ever see you as nothing but one of _them_?

She gets Elphaba in that moment. She understands why the girl is so dedicated to her discovery being taken seriously. It's not only proof that the Wizard has deceived them all… it's proof that if he hadn't come along, Elphaba would have been born normal.

She wouldn't have had to suffer for so long.

Galinda looks down to a few pages Elphaba has spread before her, the green girl explaining the logistics behind the experiments she ran on Undead orbs and her own.

But all Galinda can think about now is that Elphaba has discovered the cause.

And if Elphaba knows what started it, then she surely must know how to end it!

"So you've found the cure then as well, right?" Galinda asks, all her hopes poured into one simple question.

Elphaba sighs, shaking her head. "No. I just know how it all started."

But Galinda thinks that if Elphaba could figure out the cause then she can surely find a solution. She grins, whispering, "You know, my fiancé comes from a bit of a wealthy background. I am sure once we reach his home that he'll want to help. I'll make sure you get whatever you need to keep researching. You're so close Elphaba! If you just had more time, you could figure this all out!"

If Elphaba can find the cure then she can clear her name! She can get back her life...

For some reason that thought doesn't elate Galinda as much as she imagined it would. But she shrugs the feeling off as nothing did ever much elate her nowadays anyway.

Elphaba wishes she could share in Galinda's newfound enthusiasm but she knows otherwise. The Undead have been plaguing Oz for near a quarter of a century and no one has come anywhere near close to developing a cure in that time. Not her father, not the best scientist in the land, and certainly not the Wizard. It was just impossible. There was no counter to what had been created. There never will be. Yet right now, right here with Galinda looking happier than anyone Elphaba has ever seen, she can't seem to tell her otherwise. Galinda looks so pleased by even the prospect of a way out that Elphaba doesn't have the heart to see Galinda's happiness go.

She doesn't have the heart to tell her they'll never be a cure.

* * *

><p>The next morning Galinda is still in good spirits as she offers to carry the survival pack and Elphaba's bag. Elphaba declines and Galinda looks a bit morose at her refusal, but brightens once more when Elphaba smiles her way in apology.<p>

Elphaba hates lying. Especially when she knows Galinda will only be upset when she learns the truth.

She wonders how long she can keep this going before it eats away at her soul and all that's left is a true Verdigris.

"So," Galinda says as they make their way West through the forest. "I apologize for being a raging bitch."

Elphaba nods, accepting but says nothing, eyes focused ahead. Galinda quirks a brow at Elphaba's odd behavior. Had she said that yesterday she's sure Elphaba would have been groveling to her feet by now out of sheer gratitude.

Galinda is confused by the green girls' sudden shift in personality.

Not to be deterred, Galinda tries a different approach. She hasn't been friendly to anyone in quite some time and what better way to befriend the future savior of Oz, infected or not (sure to change soon though!), then by making some small talk? But the more she tries to think of a question the more she realizes the answers she'll be met with will be nothing short of traumatizing for Elphaba.

A simple "where did you grow up" would turn into a disastrous tale of abuse during childhood.

Oz, even her favorite book might spark a memory of fire and pain.

And it's not like the girl has any friends so really she couldn't even fall back on that if she wanted.

"You wanted to, to a-ask me something, Miss Upland?" Elphaba says timidly.

"Just Galinda is all right." She gives her a warm smile, suddenly realizing, "I'm the first person you've ever met, aren't I?"

Elphaba smiles back, about to give a nod when she lets out a small, "Oh. No, the second technically."

Galinda sighs. "The clunker."

Elphaba nods.

"Well he doesn't count, so there," Galinda grins. "I'm the first."

"I prefer you as well," Elphaba says quietly.

Galinda feel her cheeks warm but shakes the feeling aside as she looks over to Elphaba. She realizes she hasn't gotten a chance to actually _look_ at her. Which technically isn't true since she did that time she almost killed her. But now is different! She hasn't gotten a chance to _really_ look at Elphaba since then. Not without something hiding her face or the cover of darkness obscuring her features. In the bright sunlight, with her long black hair braided behind her neck, it's clear to Galinda that Elphaba isn't the repulsive sight she once imagined hidden beneath the cloak. No, Elphaba's rather pretty actually, she thinks, in a _different_ sort of way.

She has great cheekbones, full lashes worthy of envy by any girl and rather pouty lips. Her nose is sharp though, giving her quite the strong profile. She's striking for someone so green.

An unusual green, she thinks. Galinda has seen Undead, Oz she's struck down enough to last most people three lifetimes. She knows their rotting flesh is the most hideous color in all of Oz. It's pale, sickly and of the color one would attribute to rotting vegetables sitting in a bucket of stagnate pond scum.

It's disgusting.

But Elphaba's skin isn't like that… not in the least.

It reminds Galinda of grass a bit, yes. The kind you want to relax in while the sun warms your cheeks.

Galinda blushes. She can't believe she even _thought _that. She spares a glance at Elphaba who seems no wiser to the inner workings of her obviously insane mind.

She needs a distraction.

Elphaba, blessedly, chooses then to speak. "C-could I ask you something?"

Galinda nods, more than happy for the opportunity to get the grassy thoughts from her mind.

"How did you meet your f-fiancé?"

"Oh," Galinda says, "Him. Fiyero, um, we met at Academy actually."

"What's he like?" Elphaba asks next, curious. She's never been in love but from what she's read in books she thinks it must be one of the greatest feelings in the world. Galinda must surely love Fiyero. It seems only natural that Elphaba wants to know the truth. Does it really live up to the things she read?

"He's," Galinda begins to say trying to piece together a couple words to describe Fiyero. "He's handsome," she says watching Elphaba's reaction as she continues, "strong, tall, a good friend."

"And you love him?" It's asked so simply it almost causes Galinda to trip.

"Of course I do," she says quickly. "I am marrying the guy after all."

Elphaba doesn't quite know what to make of Galinda's response. She's not entirely convinced. Galinda seems almost... uncomfortable speaking of her fiancé. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Shouldn't speaking about someone you love be easy?

"What about you?" Galinda says, hoping to steer the focus to Elphaba instead. "Anyone special in your life?"

She doesn't realize her question is unbelievably ridiculous and not to mention entirely rude until she sees the expression on Elphaba's face fall.

"Oh! Oz, I'm sorry Elphaba." Galinda apologizes hastily. "I just completely forgot about…"

"About how I'm a huge freak?" Elphaba says with a self-deprecating grin. "The green kind of makes it hard to overlook."

Galinda feels her chest tighten. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I've never had a friend, let alone anyone, _special_," Elphaba says pointedly feeling a bit bitter that Galinda even bothered to swing the subject around to her. Her skin itches along her neck and she reaches up to scratch at the unwelcome sensation. The more kindness Galinda shows her the more uncomfortable she feels knowing that if Galinda knew the full truth she'd hate her once more.

"You're not missing much," Galinda says, hoping to make amends with her words. "I never had many friends myself, actually."

Elphaba finds that impossible to believe and asks, "why?"

"Too busy I guess?" Galinda offers.

"When I was young," Elphaba begins to say, smiling at the memory as she continues, "I tired digging a hole to the other side of Oz because I wanted a friend so badly."

Galinda chuckles as she imagines a small Elphaba doing just that. "That's ridiculous, you know."

"I know," Elphaba tells her. "I guess what I am saying is that it must be nice to have the opportunity even if you think otherwise."

Galinda shakes her head with a grunt. "People are horrible, selfish and, most of the time, just disappoint you anyway. You're better off alone, trust me."

"But you have Fiyero, you have _someone_."

"Yes, I have Fiyero," Galinda says quietly, she glances to Elphaba, surprised to find the green girl staring at her curiously. She feels like an orb under one of Elphaba's microscopes. "What?" she snaps.

"Nothing," Elphaba says, looking away quickly.

Galinda doesn't let the look slide though. "No, honestly. What is it?"

Elphaba just shakes her head. If most people are like Galinda she can't understand how anyone can have friends let alone be engaged. Everyone just seems to go around lying and pretending as though everything is all right.

It doesn't seem like a way to live to Elphaba.

It feels more like being trapped. Like being back at the Consulate.

Elphaba is tired of feeling trapped.

She sighs. _Now or never_, she thinks.

"I have to tell you something," Elphaba says, eyes watching the ground below as her feet carry her forward. "There… there is no cure."

Elphaba feels instantly free once the words leave her lips. She turns back to Galinda to find the soldier giving her a small smile.

"Yet," Galinda says. "There isn't a cure _yet_."

Elphaba stops walking. "No," she counters. "There will never be one. An Undead is forever an Undead unless someone stops them. Be it bullet, blade, fire, or what have you they just can't be cured with a simple serum. Their blood orbs are resilient to everything! They _devour _everything! There can never be-"

"No!" Galinda shakes her head, interrupting Elphaba. "No, there is a way. There must! You can't just find a cause without also finding a cure! It's there! You just have to look harder!"

"I can't!" Elphaba exclaims, frustrated by Galinda's insistence. "It doesn't exist! Just like the souls in the Undead cease to _be_! You can't cure what's already been taken!"

Galinda grabs Elphaba by the collar of her dress, pulling the green girl down till their eyes are level. "Listen to me you _green freak_. I let you live before so I could learn magic but since that's not happening the only reason you breathe now is to _find a cure_. If you're telling me its impossible then I guess you don't care to live then."

Elphaba's eyes dart between Galinda's hoping the burning hatred she sees in them is just another mask. Just another lie… but Galinda's anger is real. Her grip on Elphaba only tightens.

Elphaba stares right back into those piercing blue eyes as she says, voice quivering, "I-I'm sorry, Ga-Galinda…"

Galinda lets out a growl as she pushes Elphaba away. The green girl stumbles to the ground, the sleeves of her dress tearing at the elbows from the force of her fall. As Galinda rips the survival pack from Elphaba's back she suppresses the urge to apologize. There is nothing to apologize for, she thinks.

Elphaba more than deserves to be left in the forest.

_No cure_, Galinda scoffs. Then there truly is no point in continuing together. She tries not to look back as she throws the bag over her shoulder and leaves Elphaba prone on the ground. With each step away she feels that stupid guilt drilling a hole through her heart. She cringes, walking faster, hoping once she's far enough away it will all just fade and she can go back to being numb once again.

Elphaba watches, absolutely terrified as Galinda leaves her. "Wait," she breathes, voice barely audible. Galinda doesn't hear, or chooses not to, as she disappears entirely into the trees ahead.

And just like that, Elphaba is alone.

She never imagined being so free could also be so horrifying.

With Galinda gone she's sure she won't survive the night.

No weapons, no knowledge of even the simplest of survival techniques.

Elphaba depended on Galinda. Depended on staying beside the soldier no matter how much the soldier protested otherwise.

But now, now Elphaba knows that is no longer going to happen.

People like Galinda don't bother with creatures like Elphaba.

And if one thing is absolutely clear from the sting of Galinda's departure… it's that no one ever would.

* * *

><p>Galinda continues on, muttering curses under her breath at how stupid she has been. She couldn't believe she'd been so… so <em>nice<em> to Elphaba! Was it so easy to forget that the green girl was INFECTED (no matter how much Elphaba protested otherwise) with the very thing she's dedicated her adult life to stopping?

She feels betrayed by her very mind. How dare it not do its job!

Galinda hears a rustling in the trees, the air growing suddenly thick.

Silent.

A chill washes over her at the implications. She pulls the bow from around her shoulders and quickly fixes an arrow to the string.

The leaves move again and Galinda whirls, pointing her arrow toward a bush a few yards off. The second time the bush rattles, Galinda lets her arrow fly. A small cry issues from the bush as the arrow embeds into the tree behind, a dead rabbit hanging from the shaft.

Well, she thinks. At least she's caught dinner.

A scream tears through the forest as she lowers her bow. Galinda feels her stomach drop when she realizes the voice is Elphaba's. She shouldn't care. She should just keep going. But Galinda can't seem to make her body move.

A slight breeze passes by, the unmistakable stench of Undead in the air.

Galinda makes her decision.

The bunny is going to be quite tasty later.

* * *

><p>Elphaba nearly trips over her feet as she runs from the couple of Unmentionable's hot on her heels. She only counted two but one was more than enough to have her screaming for help. As she looks over her shoulder she grows even more distressed to find another has appeared. She pumps her legs faster, urging her body into a full sprint.<p>

A branch snags on her shoulder strap, halting her in her tracks and sending her head over heels to the ground below. Elphaba feels the air rushing from her lungs as her back impacts against the dirt.

She knows she's made a fatal mistake.

The first Undead is upon her not a second later and Elphaba raises her legs, prepared to kick it away when she hears it let out a guttural moan. An arrow explodes into the back of its head, the blood spurting out at the violent impact. Elphaba gasps, rolling aside as the Verdigris falls to the ground, unmoving.

Dead for good.

Elphaba's breath is ragged as she desperately fills her lungs, scooting back along the ground, away from the soulless body. She looks back up to where the arrow must have traveled. Her eyes land on the other two Undead along the ground also sporting similar arrows to the head.

Galinda jogs into view not a moment later.

"Well then," she says, with a smirk, cheeks flushed from the rush of the fresh kills. Elphaba thinks she's almost glowing. "You've proven me right. You _are_ absolutely useless."

"You… came…ba-ba-" Elphaba manages between her ragged breaths.

Galinda rolls her eyes. "Yes, I came back."

"_Why_?" Elphaba says, struggling to find the reason for the blondes return. Galinda helps her to her feet, throwing the survival pack into Elphaba's chest.

"I need someone to carry that," Galinda says simply. "It's heavy and it puts my aim off."

Elphaba stares, incredulous at Galinda. She's sure there's more to it than that but right now, she's just thankful Galinda is _here_.

How many times has the soldier saved her now?

"Well?" Galinda asks, as she turns to go, waiting for Elphaba to follow.

So Elphaba secures the backpack behind her and falls into step behind Galinda.

She'll worry about the why later.

For now she's just happy to be _alive_.

* * *

><p>Elphaba is appalled later that evening as Galinda strips the fur from the rabbit and prepares to cook it over their small campfire. They walked for what felt like hours and Elphaba has never felt sorer in her life. There is definitely a welt forming along her cheek from where Galinda punched her the previous afternoon. It is tender to the touch. Oz, her whole body feels as though it's been dragged through the cobbled streets of the Emerald City. She was more than relieved when Galinda suddenly came to a stop, declaring the small spot of forest as their camp for the night.<p>

Elphaba immediately sat down, stripping the boots from her tired feet, glad for the rest.

Galinda had set about checking the area around their makeshift camp before she started de-furring the poor rabbit. "I promise it'll be the best thing you've ever tasted," Galinda tells her as she watches the rabbit begin to brown over the flames.

"I don't…" Elphaba begins to say, gulping down her urge to vomit, "I don't eat meat."

"Oh," Galinda says, stopping her slow rotation of the rabbit. "I'll go get you some berries then."

Before Galinda can leave though Elphaba stops her. It is now or never. "Wait, please."

Galinda halts, turning to look at Elphaba yet not directly meeting the green girl's eyes.

"Why did you really come back?" Elphaba asks.

Galinda shrugs the question off and bends down to pick her bow from the forest floor. "Like I said, my aim was off with the pack on."

Elphaba stands to her feet when Galinda does. "I know that's a lie. Please… why are _we_ here?" she emphasizes.

Galinda flinches. She looks up to Elphaba, expecting to find the brown eyes narrowed into her own but instead she finds that same steady concern Elphaba always carries. Of course she can't tell her the truth. The truth is something not even she is ready to admit. Call it a momentary lapse in her otherwise cold shell. Galinda _wanted_ Elphaba to be safe. Why though… she refuses to acknowledge. But she knows something deep inside of her spurred the decision.

There is more to the odd infected green girl then meets the eye.

Be it her incredible magical power, or her righteous determination.

Elphaba is not like everyone else. It intrigues Galinda even now as she stares, trying to think of an excuse good enough for Elphaba to believe.

"Galinda?" Elphaba calls her name softly and Galinda groans, irritated with Elphaba's need for the truth.

"I don't know why, all right? Does that answer your question?" Galinda fires back. "I'm trained to help. I heard a scream and did my job. I don't always want to have to be turning back to save you. It's just easier this way."

Elphaba sits back down along the moss covered ground, accepting Galinda's answer. She won't press her further.

Galinda grabs her quiver of arrows, instructing Elphaba to stay put, before heading quickly into the forest to gather the girl a meager dinner.

When she returns with her pockets full of berries and some fruit from a fig tree, Galinda is surprised to see Elphaba has taken her rabbit off the fire and laid it to rest a top the survival pack wrapped in some fresh leaves.

"Thanks," Galinda mumbles as she motions to the rabbit. Elphaba gives a nod. "Here," she says, emptying her pockets of the food into Elphaba's lap. Elphaba picks up a few of the berries, nibbling on them before eating with gusto.

"Thank you," Elphaba tells her with a grateful smile.

Galinda gives a nod as she picks up her own meal and bites into the still-warm meat. After swallowing the bite she says, "I'll teach you which are all right to eat tomorrow."

Elphaba is about to tell her she doesn't have to, but stops herself. She wants to learn and gives Galinda a smile of gratitude in return.

A chill settles into the air, the temperature dropping just slightly. Elphaba moves further from the fire to settle against a tree. Galinda quirks a brow at the move.

Elphaba would rather be closer to the flames. They'd be sure to keep her warm but she's still shaken from yesterday's incident. She can hear the screams echoing in her head with every pop of the small flame before her. It was easy to ignore the fire when Galinda was cooking her rabbit and her senses were invaded with the smell of the roasted meat.

But now, without the distraction and with the sun dipping ever lower in the sky, it's all Elphaba can focus on.

"Is something wrong?" Galinda asks, snapping Elphaba's attention away from the flames. The fire crackles into the dimming daylight as Elphaba shakes her head.

"It's nothing." Elphaba says softly.

Galinda tosses the rest of the rabbit aside, stomach full, as she says, "It's the fire, isn't it? You're still thinking about what happened."

Elphaba gives a small nod, hugging her knees to her chest. "I've always been afraid of it…ever since I was a girl and it consumed my home. Seeing it destroy the camp like that it… it was like being back in Munchkinland again."

Elphaba grows silent, hugging herself tighter. Galinda wants to pick some dirt up and douse the flames since they make the green girl so uncomfortable but she knows that won't help.

Facing your fears is something she learned very early on.

"Look, Elphaba," Galinda sighs, "if you hadn't conjured that fire then we'd be the ones in trouble. Dead, most likely." When Elphaba doesn't seem to relax, Galinda tries to think of something, anything to say. What comes out of her mouth surprises both girls. "When I was little I was deathly afraid of ducks."

Elphaba lets her legs fall back to the ground at the sudden confession from the blonde. "Ducks?"

Galinda smiles, rolling her eyes at herself. "Yes, I know. _Terrifying_ beasts, aren't they? It was silly."

"It wasn't silly to you." Elphaba says, her lips finally pulling into a smile as well. "I'll make sure to scare any off if they try to _quack_ at you."

Galinda chuckles. "Brave," she says as she finally pours some dirt over the fire, pitching their camp area into the dark night. "I'll take first shift, you second?"

Elphaba nods and lies back against the ground as Galinda settles down a few paces away against a skinny trunk. The trees above aren't as thick as the ones she slept beneath their first night. Elphaba can clearly see the night sky above, stars brightly dotting the black heavens.

She hasn't seen them like this since she was a little girl. She'd spend evenings outside in her garden at Colwen Grounds while Nanny washed dishes in their kitchen. Elphaba remembers feeling warm on those nights, safe, as she'd watch the stars move across the night sky.

"We use them to find our way, you know," Galinda says quietly, noticing Elphaba's eyes taking in the sight above.

"I do," Elphaba replies just as soft.

While Galinda tells her about the stars Elphaba only thinks how much she prefers having someone else to watch them with.


	8. Magic Can't Save Us

**Chapter 8 **

_Magic Can't Save Us_

Galinda feels filthy. She's sure she looks even worse. Her once golden blouse is ruined, stained brown from the murky runoff water outside the Emerald City walls. Her trousers look no better. When she looks down at her blouse she finds that there are a few darker spots dotting across her chest. Blood. From who she's unsure. It could be that of an Undead, or a Gale Force Officer… or worse, Elphaba. She hopes it's not the latter. She hopes it's just the rabbit's blood. She'll try to wash it out later.

Oz, what she wouldn't give for a bath! It's almost as if the dirt and grime have fused with her skin by now, baking in the afternoon sun as she is. A bead of sweat rolls down her forehead, collecting along her brow. Galinda wipes it from her face with the back of her wrist, taking the extra moment to glance over her shoulder.

She spots Elphaba walking a little ways behind, looking equally dirty, and lost in her thoughts.

Elphaba can't stop thinking about last night. She can't figure Galinda out. One minute the blonde is threatening to murder her and the next she's saving her. Elphaba always thought her father was crazy but since meeting Galinda she's starting to think otherwise. At least he was consistent in his madness. Galinda's is fleeting, her entire persona shifting just as quickly as her moods. She wonders what happened to the blonde to make her this way.

She wonders more why the soldier came back after leaving her for dead.

Does she want something from Elphaba? Elphaba can't possibly imagine what the blonde could want from her since she can hardly control her magic, let alone instruct someone else how to use it. Not to mention she has proven herself completely useless in every other way.

Could it be the blonde desires her company for the journey? But Elphaba certainly doesn't feel that that's the case either.

Though it does parallel what Elphaba wishes. She has realized that, despite Galinda's inconsistent madness, she still really wants her friendship. Elphaba's never had one before and there were moments last night when she felt, just maybe, that Galinda _could _be her friend. From what Elphaba understands from the books she's read friends make you smile. Friends share stories with each other, console one another during times of hardship. Isn't that _exactly_ what happened? And even despite Galinda's recent behavioral spats Elphaba still feels an innate tie to the blonde. Even now she feels safe.

And friends make you feel safe, right? They're someone you can truly depend upon, no matter the situation.

Galinda meets all those requirements and more. The more bit is what confuses Elphaba. She feels a distinct prickle in her bones when she's close to the blonde. It's almost a flutter of a feeling really. Not uncomfortable but not exactly ignorable either. It's just _there._ It worries her what it could mean.

She can't be… _attracted_ to Galinda.

The blonde is beautiful, that much is obvious. Anyone, green or not, would attest to the same. You cannot argue a fact. Attraction is simply admiration. _Yes_, Elphaba thinks. _It's exactly that_. So she tells herself what she's feeling is just an abundance of gratitude brought on all at once and now has come on so strongly that it makes her shiver just thinking about it.

There, logic once again explains all.

Elphaba looks up at Galinda and she feels it, that tingle under her skin, stronger than ever.

Or maybe not…

She sighs.

She wishes she could just turn her mind off; it'd be much simpler just to not think about it any longer.

Galinda stops walking ahead of her. Elphaba halts in her steps, watching as Galinda stretches her neck up, turning her head into the slight breeze. Elphaba is reminded of a deer as Galinda looks the other way.

She hopes the soldier hasn't heard more Undead nearby.

Elphaba shudders, holding her shoulder strap tighter as she recalls the encounter from the day before.

But Galinda grins, and looks over toward Elphaba, almost excited as she calls out, "Water!"

Elphaba barely has time to register the word when Galinda takes off running down through the field of wild flowers and into the forest. She pushes the shoulder bag behind her back and below the survival pack as she runs after the soldier. She almost loses Galinda in the maze of trees she enters, briefly catching glimpses of the girls' blonde hair as she darts around the trunks. Elphaba hears it then: the roar of rushing water.

The tree line ends along the banks of a wide flowing river. Galinda has already tossed her bow and quiver to the ground, her fingers quickly working to undo the buttons of her blouse. Elphaba inhales sharply, quickly turning from the sight.

Galinda couldn't be happier to see the Gillikin River. She cannot wait to get these soiled clothes off her body and sink into the cold refreshing water! That is until she hears Elphaba's voice.

"Galinda!" the green woman calls. The blonde stops in the middle of shrugging the blouse off her shoulders and turns around. Elphaba is pointing up the river, ahead to where a thin stream of smoke rises into the sky.

Galinda wonders what it could be. Any number of things really. A small refugee camp, a cabin, a collection of thieves, vagabonds… Gale Force.

"Never mind it," Galinda tells her as she pulls the blouse off and lets it fall to the rocks below. She bends down to start on her boots next.

"They could have tubs," Elphaba says, eyes still very much focused down the river bank.

"They could have _guns_," Galinda counters, one boot off. She sighs, blissful at the feeling of her free toes.

In the distance a bell rings out, echoing down the river basin.

Galinda stops unlacing her remaining boot. She looks back over to the smoke, another stream rising to join the first. Curious, Galinda starts redressing. Her dip in the river can wait if it can be from within the safe walls of the cloister she believes lies ahead.

She just hopes there's still a bridge. So many have been burned to stop the Undead from crossing all over Oz.

Elphaba turns slightly, peeking over her shoulder once she hears clothes rustling again. She's relieved to find Galinda dressed once more and securing her bow and quiver back over her shoulders.

"Come on," Galinda says as she leads them up the rocky river bed.

Elphaba quickens her pace, catching up to Galinda's strides. They both watch as a pointed roof peeks out over the trees on the opposite side of the river. The closer they get, the more of the structure is revealed. Vines loop lazily up the sides of the old brick walls. Bars criss-cross over the fogged windows, shadows obscuring those that are open. A few sections of the roof seem mangled, shingles shorn off either from wind or water damage.

An ancient stone bridge juts across the river, the center road gone partway over. Its wooden supports have long since burnt or fallen below to where a few rotting beams have collected in the river, pressed against the center stone support. They bob, squeaking, under the pressure of the water as it rushes past.

Galinda feels a calm settle over her at the sight. She knows it means the bridge has been standing in this near destroyed state for many years. It's not about to collapse just yet. She steps onto the bridge, testing her weight against the cobblestone ridge. It holds, strong. Safe. She motions for Elphaba to follow her. Together they journey over the bridge's stone rail. The bricks are barely the width of a foot and to maintain balance Elphaba holds onto Galinda's arrow sheath, careful not to touch the blonde's shoulders.

Though she doubts she could shake the soldier's concentration. Galinda has never once looked down at the water below since they started walking along the precarious edge.

Elphaba makes the mistake of looking down. She was already nervous upon reaching the bridge and now to be so high over such deep water… Elphaba thinks her fingernails may have left indents in Galinda's quiver. The water below is rushing awfully fast and as if to make matter worse the closer they get to the cloister, the closer she imagines they are walking straight into a fate unknown. A horrible feeling of dread pools in her gut. Who knows what could be waiting from them in the buildings?

She knows what awaits her below.

Would the death inside the walls of the cloister be more forgiving?

She should have just let Galinda have her bath!

The road begins again and Galinda hops down. Elphaba nearly looses her balance without the support of the quiver clutched between her hands. She wobbles on shaky legs and before she knows what's happening Galinda has reached out, steadying her by the arm with a firm hand. The blonde helps her from the rail, eyes never once meeting Elphaba's own.

Galinda had first noticed Elphaba's wavering when the green woman took hold of her sheath. A pang of guilt twisted in her gut as they walked over the bridge and she recalled how just a few days prior Elphaba nearly drowned. Drowned because of _her_. She wants to apologize but what good would it do, she thinks? What good would reminding Elphaba of something so terrible accomplish? Oz forbid the green woman decide to grow a backbone all of the sudden and enact wrathful revenge upon the blonde by showing her a similar fate below.

No, it was best Galinda keep quiet, help the woman from the rail and leave all these thoughts behind on the bridge. Leave the past where it belongs.

With her feet more firmly grounded Elphaba feels relieved. She gives Galinda a thankful smile in return only to find the blonde has already moved away and is now facing the cloister ahead. From the center of the bridge she can just barely read the faded sign nailed high over the entrance.

_Cloister of Saint Glinda._

Galinda seems to not have noticed the namesake yet, too busy scanning the entrance gates and road for signs of life. Elphaba doesn't want to take any chances though. She reaches inside her bag, extracting her scarf once more. It may not offer the amount of concealment she wants, but it will suffice for now. She wraps the soft material loosely around her face and neck, careful not to disturb the tender bruise along her cheek. With a deep steadying breath she joins Galinda's side in front of the Cloister.

Galinda steps up to the gate first, knocking against the iron bars. "Hello!" she calls out into the small and sparse courtyard, voice echoing along the walls. "Are there survivors?"

As they listen to Galinda's voice fade another whispers from behind, "Not so loud, child."

Elphaba jumps at the sound. Galinda whirls on her heels, extracting her dagger and pulling Elphaba behind her in one swift motion.

An old maunt stands, amused, just a few paces away. In the crook of her arm is an equally weathered looking woven basket, filled with oranges. She gives a smile, her front teeth missing. "You wouldn't want to bring the Undead around with that ruckus now would you?"

Galinda pockets her dagger, straightening her posture once more. Elphaba stays ducked behind the blonde, even as Galinda steps aside to let the woman approach the gates.

"I'm sorry sister maunt," Galinda says, head bowed respectively. "I was just ensuring those inside were safe. I noticed the smoke."

The maunt nods, "That is all very well child but I assure you we are perfectly fine." She pulls out her keys to unlock the gate, pausing as she takes in the sight of the dirtied girls. "I suppose you'd like a place to… freshen up?"

Galinda looks up at the maunt, smile already on her lips. "Yes, very much, if possible."

The maunt grins back. "But of course, dear! What kind of woman of faith would I be otherwise?"

Elphaba stays close behind Galinda, careful to keep her face as obscured by the feathers of the arrows as much as possible. The maunt, which they quickly learn to just call Yackle lest she swat at their arm again, invites them inside and shows them to a spare room at the end of a hall along the courtyard. It's a bit larger than Galinda's apartment but not by much. Two cots rest along opposite walls and a small hand basin sits on a table just under the lone window between the beds.

"There's a bathing room just there," Yackle says, indicating the door in the hall opposite their own. "We'll be having our evening meal shortly, if you care to join us. I do love a good stranger's tale."

Elphaba keeps her head bowed as Galinda gives a chuckle and says, "Thank you, sis-Yackle, but I think we're just going to rest for the night."

"I'll save you some biscuits then," Yackle says with a wink as she turns to the door. Before she closes it, she adds, "Your friend looks like she could use some… or twenty."

Galinda turns around to find Elphaba staring down at her flat stomach, picking at the dress hanging loosely from her lanky frame. Galinda smoothers her urge to giggle with a cough. "Sorry," she apologizes as Elphaba looks up to her, confused. "But you have to admit, she's kind of right. You are a bit on the scrawny side."

"I've always looked like this," Elphaba says with a shrug. When she notices the smile still tugging at Galinda lips she sighs. "Not all of us can be born perfectly-portioned and beautiful like you, you know."

"No," Galinda agrees, her cheeks flushing as she slips her weapons from her shoulders, laying them to rest along the wall beside one of the cots. She plops down onto the stiff bed, grinning cheekily up at Elphaba. "That's what makes me so special."

Elphaba suppresses the urge to roll her eyes at the blonde's comment, instead busying herself with unwrapping the scarf from her face. Just as Elphaba gets the last of the fabric off, Galinda grabs her gently by the wrist, tugging her toward the door.

"W-what are _doing_?" Elphaba whispers as Galinda opens the door and leads them across the hall into the bathing room. Elphaba's eyes dart between the three tubs resting along the walls and she feels her entire body tense, her skin heating under Galinda's palm. One word passes from her lips at the sight, "_No_."

"Yes," Galinda says as she lets go of Elphaba's wrist. "We need this. I reek and you reek _even more_. Besides you were the one that wanted a tub so badly. Well there they are, so have at it."

"I c-can't," Elphaba says, shaking her head and turning to leave.

"Oh please," Galinda scoffs. "It's just a bath. There, look, there's one with a curtain if you feel so embarrassed about it."

She really has no idea why the green woman is so self-conscious. It's not as if she'd even be remotely interested in seeing Elphaba naked anyway. She's used to bathing with women. _Lots _of women. Lots of women far more attractive than the green bean who looks like a lost fawn standing before her. With a roll of her eyes she starts to undo the buttons of her blouse.

As Galinda undresses Elphaba keeps her gaze rooted to the tiles of the floor below. "It's not just that…"

"I already know you're green." Galinda says, now completely nude as she moves to begin filling a tub. She reaches out to test the water - freezing cold of course – and shivers. But she understands that's as warm as it'll probably get. As she waits for the tub to fill she turns to Elphaba, one brow raised in conceit. "It's not like it's going to be some _huge _surprise seeing your emerald breasts." And with a snicker adds, "more like tiny."

Elphaba gulps, cheeks burning. She can't find the willpower to move from this spot on the floor. It's as if she's been frozen in place. The fear she feels is absolutely paralyzing. What if Galinda sees her… what if she sees the marks marring her skin. The scars left behind by her father are gruesome. Galinda's sure to be disgusted. Oz, she's disgusted with them herself. No, she can't let Galinda have another reason to hate her.

"I'll w-wait," Elphaba manages to say as she quickly retreats from the bathing room. She's so intent on keeping her eyes from seeing Galinda's body, which she assumes is still on full display, that she doesn't see Yackle until they collide and are then both sprawled on the ground, biscuits lying crumbled around them.

"Ah," Yackle says, eyes staring directly into Elphaba's. Elphaba feels her heart beat faster against her ribs. She should have just stayed with Galinda, she berates herself. Now Yackle is sure to kick them out, or worse just murder her on the spot with the butter knife she's holding. She brings her hands to her exposed face, turning her head away but Yackle surprises Elphaba by giving her a warm smile. "So _that's_ why you were being so shy earlier."

"Y-you're not…" Elphaba trails off, her shoulders losing some of their tension as she sits up further.

Yackle shakes her head, holding her arms out to Elphaba. "Help an old woman up, will you, dear?"

Elphaba quickly jumps to her feet to assist, still confused by Yackle's acceptance.

No one has shown her this much kindness so quickly since… since Nanny.

"Oh, now don't go crying about it." Yackle tuts, leading Elphaba back into her room. Elphaba can't help herself though. She quickly wipes at her eyes, hoping the tears will stop. "It's just some spilled biscuits," she says with a wink, handing the unsoiled few to Elphaba.

"I…" Elphaba begins to say but Yackle just shakes her head, toothless smile still in place as she pats Elphaba on the shoulder.

"I think I may have some clothes left behind from some other passerby's around here. I'll see what I can get you girls." And with that the maunt leaves the room, a stunned Elphaba still watching the door long after it's been closed.

* * *

><p>Galinda enters the room a little later, a towel wrapped around her body, her hair dripping wet, and a satisfied smile on her face. When she sees Elphaba it instantly falls. The green girl is sitting on the edge of her cot, staring, unblinking at the door. Galinda waves her hand in front of Elphaba's face. It takes a second before Elphaba's eyes deglaze and she looks up to the blonde. "Your turn," Galinda says, trying to figure out why she's found Elphaba looking so dazed.<p>

Elphaba stands to her feet, not saying a word as she disappears out the door and across the hall to the bathing room.

Galinda watches Elphaba's speedy exit. Odd, she thinks, wondering what's transpired while she was in her bath to make the green woman act so jumpy. She doesn't have much time to dwell on Elphaba's strange behavior though as Yackle returns, arms full of clothes. Galinda rushes to relieve the old woman of them and gets a smile of thanks in return.

"Yackle has a pretty good collection," the old maunt says as Galinda picks up a worn white men's button up shirt. She holds it to her chest, surprised to find the cut is exactly in her usual size, albeit a bit brooder across the shoulders. "Perfect," Yackle nods. "I'll leave you to it then. Until morn, child."

"Thank you," Galinda says as Yackle leaves her once more. Galinda digs through the clothes and manages to find a bra relatively in her size amongst the pile, though it is a bit snug and exceedingly far from her usual frilled style. _Ugly is more like it_, she thinks. She tries not to think of what Fiyero will say when he sees it, that would only infer that he _will _be seeing it upon her arrival. And the last thing she wants to think about is sleeping with him. Instead she wonders what size Elphaba might be, or if the green woman even bothers with such undergarments. It didn't seem like she needed the chest support but that could also be the ill-fitting dress making it seem that way. The green woman can't help being built the way she is, and yet Galinda has a feeling the girls horrible father is to blame for the lack of fat upon Elphaba's bones.

Galinda feels a bit guilty for teasing the green woman so, but than again, the blonde is _not_ here to be anyone's friend. They are travel companions. Nothing more. Thinking such still doesn't stop the mounting irritation she feels toward Elphaba's father though.

She shakes the itch rising along her skin off at the thought of the bastard before it can burn itself and mark her for good.

She turns back to the clothes and pulls the shirt on next, following with a pair of tan trousers she recognizes as the same kind she owned at Academy. The clothes smell fresh and as Galinda inhales the crisp soapy scent deep into her lungs she suddenly feels very tired. She looks out the small window, surprised to find the sun so close to the horizon. Night will be upon the Cloister soon.

Galinda reaches down to her belt, expecting to find her holster and pistol tucked away but curses herself when she realizes she's left them, along with her dagger, in the bathing room. She makes her way across the hallway, bare feet silent against the stone as she pads over. The door is closed and Galinda presses her ear against the wood. Inside she can hear humming, faint and low. She's surprised that Elphaba would be one to carry a song…yet the tune is almost haunting. She wonders who taught it to her.

Galinda opens the door slowly, careful not to make a sound as she peeks inside for her belongings. They are piled near the foot to the tub she bathed in earlier. The one clear across the room. Galinda groans inwardly as she steps inside, leaving the door ajar behind her. Elphaba seems not to have heard and Galinda gives silent thanks that the green girl has chosen the curtained tub for her bath. Her oversize shirt rustles along her body as Galinda sneaks across the room. She steals a glance toward Elphaba's tub, happy to note the green girl is still oblivious, still humming softly.

_There you are_, Galinda thinks with a smile as she finds her pistol still tucked into her holster atop her clothes. The dagger lies just underneath and Galinda noiselessly picks them both up. With her weapons secure she turns to leave; sparing another glance to make sure Elphaba is still lost in her own world. But she pauses when she's met with the sight of Elphaba's bare shoulders through a gap in the curtain. Galinda feels her breath still as she unabashedly watches the green woman bathe.

Watches as she collects her hair from over her shoulder, running her fingers through the dark strands. Watches, unmoving as Elphaba stands from the tub, the water dripping down her long legs.

Watches the scars pull along the green skin of Elphaba's back, their pale color a stark contrast to the darker green beneath. There are so many, Galinda thinks, unable to look away. Her stomach churns uncomfortably at the sight. One in particular, along Elphaba's hip, looks painful even at a distance.

Galinda feels a swell of rage rise within her as she realizes who is responsible.

Galinda thinks if she were to ever meet Elphaba's father that she'd introduce his throat to the edge of her dagger.

Elphaba reaches down, grabbing the towel from the edge of her tub and wrapping the tattered material around her body. She pulls the thin curtain open a moment later, stepping down to the cool tile below. She hears a gasp, and looks up quickly, eyes darting around the room trying to find the source of the sound.

She sighs when she finds she's alone. _It's nothing Elphaba_, she tells herself. _You're just being paranoid_. She dresses quickly, back into her dirty clothes, hoping Yackle returned with clean ones. She picks up her boots and walks toward the door, dropping her used towel into the empty wash basket beside the wall as she exits the room.

Galinda waits for Elphaba's steps to retreat as she moves out from behind the door of the towel closet.

She thinks it'll be a long while before her heart stops beating a quick pattern against her chest.

And even longer still for images of scarred green skin to leave her mind.

* * *

><p>Galinda doesn't immediately return to the room, instead deciding to take a walk around the Cloister in hopes of clearing her thoughts and chilling her still heated skin. It's a fruitless endeavor. She was perfectly content to treat Elphaba as nothing more than an oddly colored pack Mule but after their talk last night and now seeing Elphaba like that… so… so… <em>Arg! <em>Galinda groans inwardly as warmth once more collets in her belly.

She vows to forget the bathing room incident ever happened. It was in the past. It thereby must be forgotten.

When she does return, mind no less cluttered than when she started, she immediately flops onto her cot face first and lets out a long sigh.

Elphaba stops reading from the Unionist bible, the only book she could find in the room, and turns to the brooding solider. She watches Galinda, concerned for the blonde's absence and sudden surly reappearance. "Are you all right, Galinda?" she asks.

Galinda looks over to Elphaba through one eye, expression blank. The green girl has found an old fashioned oversized slip her size to wear as a nightdress. The only skin peeking out seems to be Elphaba's head and ankles. Galinda wants to tell Elphaba to put on something more comfortable but then realizes she'd just be bombarded with all that green skin that was making her so... so _uncomfortable_ earlier, she thinks.

Elphaba's seen that look on the blonde before. It's hard to imagine that a mere two days ago is when it occurred. She remembers Galinda slumped along her apartment bed, much as she is now, not bothering to turn her head completely. Galinda is frustrated and Elphaba hopes it's not because of something of her doing.

"How can you read that thing?" Galinda asks, voice muffled by the sheets over her mouth.

"This?" Elphaba asks, holding up the book. She shrugs. "It's all there was."

"It's all lies."

Elphaba, curious by Galinda's assessment, quirks a brow. "How do you know?"

Galinda moans as she sits up, resting her back against the wall and tucking her legs beneath her body. "No one as powerful as the Unnamed God is claimed to be could be so cruel as to let Oz suffer as it is."

"Perhaps it's a test?" Elphaba offers.

Galinda stares, incredulous. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"

"No," Elphaba says, serious. "I don't believe it is. And I know this is just a book of fables." She lays the book on the edge of the basin table before looking back over to Galinda, a flare of boldness rising in her chest as she tells her, "I just wanted to know why you seem so upset that it's nothing but fiction when your own life seems as riddled with lies as the ones written on those pages."

Galinda stares, mouth agape at Elphaba's accusations. She finds her voice after a beat and snaps back. "I'm not lying about anything."

Elphaba is taken aback by Galinda's bitter tone. She wants to press the blonde further but knows it could jeopardize their new friendship. She's not willing to risk that. "I must have been mistaken. I'm sorry."

"As you should be," Galinda mutters, throwing the blanket from her cot as she lies down and pulls the fabric up over her body. "Now go to sleep. We have a long way to go tomorrow and I don't want to have to stop because you're _tired_."

Elphaba blows out the lone lamp, the room descending into darkness as she crawls under her own blanket as well. "Yackle wishes to see us off in the morning," she tells Galinda softly.

"_Fine_," she hears Galinda snarl.

Elphaba sighs, turning to face the wall. They both are silent for a few long minutes until Elphaba speaks up, voice barely a whisper as she says, "She reminds me of my Nanny."

Galinda feels her resolve crumbling at Elphaba's heartfelt confession. She turns in her cot, facing the green girl. Elphaba is curled under her blanket, still facing away when Galinda says, "She reminds me what my Ama could have been like too."

Elphaba turns her head to face Galinda, surprised to find the blonde so suddenly receptive. Her blue eyes so open. "What happened to her?" Elphaba asks.

Galinda picks at a fray along her cot. "An Undead horde swarmed our town and she… she died."

Elphaba nods, understanding. "Mine too. If it wasn't for her, my father and I would have never made it out alive."

Galinda cringes. She stares at Elphaba, disbelieving. "How could you stay with him?"

Elphaba thinks about Galinda's question for moment. She knows why she stayed with her father for so long. She knows why she endured all the pain he inflicted upon her. All the silent loathing. She sighs. "I needed him. I needed him to find a cure. A cure would mean freedom not only for me but for all of Oz. He's kept me safe from people who would want to hurt me. Nobody would ever understand me, just look at me."

"It doesn't make what he's done to you right," Galinda tells her honestly. "No one deserves that. _No one_."

"If he hadn't I wouldn't have discovered the cause," Elphaba says. "I wouldn't be here, _free_." _With you_.

Galinda feels her heart clench at Elphaba's piercing gaze. She looks away with a nod after it becomes too much. She can't help but think Elphaba's father was doing tests on his daughter more to prove something to himself and punish Elphaba for being born rather than to actually help Oz. But she says nothing of this to Elphaba. Instead she wishes her goodnight.

"Fresh dreams," Elphaba whispers back. She continues watching Galinda, even as the blonde turns back toward the wall and her shoulders rise and fall with the sounds of sleep.

* * *

><p>Shouts wake both girls late in the night. Galinda springs up from her cot first, panting hard as the last wisps of her dreams fade and give way to sharp, conscious thought. She blushes thinking about the green skin still burned into her eyes. She looks over to Elphaba. The green girl is huddled against the wall on her cot, hugging her legs to her chest. Her eyes meet Galinda's, panicked.<p>

"Stay put," Galinda whispers; hoping her tone is one of reassurance.

Elphaba nods a few times, hugging her legs tighter as Galinda slips her boots onto her feet. She grabs her dagger quickly and rushes out the door.

The night air is warm as she slinks along the dark corridor. She makes it to the edge of the hall, pressing her body against the courtyard wall as she leans past the stones and peaks toward the entrance. There's a soft glow coming from a few oil lamps bleeding in through the gates. Shadows of human figures flicker along the courtyard paths, tall and imposing. A few maunts stand idly, expressions grim as they watch Yackle and another woman Galinda recognizes as the Superior Maunt converse with someone just behind the entrance.

Galinda leans out a little further, covering her mouth to hold in her surprise as her eyes register what's just outside. A battalion of Gale Force has arrived and are clearly demanding to be let inside. Galinda doesn't need to stick around to hear what they are saying. She already knows.

She can't believe they found her so fast.

She sprints as quietly as she can back into the room, nearly scaring Elphaba as she bursts inside.

"We have to go, _now_," she tells her, throwing Elphaba her boots. Elphaba quickly pulls the shoes on over some stripped socks she found. Her hands shake as she hurries into a long skirt she pulled aside earlier; the only thing in the pile that even vaguely fit. She's about to undo the buttons to her nightgown when she realizes Galinda is still in the room, that the blonde can plainly see her. With a quick glance to make sure Galinda is focused elsewhere Elphaba moves to the furthest corner, hoping the darkness conceals her body as she quickly sheds the dress and slips on a navy blouse. Her skirt keeps trying to slip down her hips as she works to fasten the buttons of the collar as high as they will go. And before she can catch her skirt a second time she feels Galinda wrap her arms behind her back. She is surprised by the blonde's sudden closeness and even more so by the bold contact until she realizes Galinda has found her a belt. The soldier quickly loops it through the skirt and buckles it tightly around Elphaba's lower stomach. Before Elphaba can even breathe a word of thanks Galinda shoves the research bag into her empty green hands.

Elphaba is still blushing even as Galinda hands her the survival pack next.

"Come on," Galinda whispers, taking her by the wrist.

With Galinda leading, they stick to the shadows against the wall along the courtyard hall. Galinda remembers seeing an entrance near the kitchens during her walk earlier. She hopes the Gale Force hasn't found it yet, and in the event they did she hopes it's just a few men. She can handle a few, but a dozen… Galinda tries not to think about it.

Elphaba can barely contain her nerves as she sees the gold and green uniforms of the men and woman standing behind the gate. She moves closer to Galinda at the sight, hoping the blonde doesn't notice how badly her hands are shaking. She follows Galinda into a deserted dinning room and then quickly into the adjoining kitchen. A small stove stands inside the wall along a row of windows, the basket of oranges resting on the counter beside it.

While Galinda fiddles with the lock on the door Elphaba gives silent thanks the fruit is still out and stuffs some of the food inside the pack.

"_Elphaba_," Galinda hisses, grabbing the green girl's attention. Elphaba hurries back, nodding that she's ready. Galinda opens the door a crack, only to shut it a second later. There are more than a dozen men outside. At least fifteen if her quick count was accurate. She locks the door as quietly as she can.

A knock is placed against it not a second later

"We know you're in there," a voice says from outside. "There are dangerous fugitives on the run and we only wish to search your premises. We only want to ensure your safety and promise to be gone within the hour."

Elphaba grabs Galinda's upper arm.

"This way then," Galinda whispers, leading Elphaba back toward the courtyard. The shouts from Yackle and the guards have grown. Soon they'll just break down the gate. Galinda's eyes scan the roof, her gaze settling on the bell tower. She grins, pulling Elphaba along behind her.

"Where are we going?" Elphaba asks hurriedly as Galinda rushes them into the room that she knows holds the spiraling stairwell.

"Up," Galinda says as she starts to climb the stairs. Elphaba doesn't know what up will accomplish but Galinda has gotten them this far so she quickly ascends as well. From the top of the bell tower Galinda can see the soldiers have only gathered at the two entrances. That leaves all other viable escape options open. She turns back to Elphaba, not surprised to find the green girl confused and terrified, huddled along one of the bell's support beams. "Ok," she says, "we're going down from here."

"_Down where_?" Elphaba asks, voice practically unhinged.

"Just follow me," Galinda tells her, hoping she sounds as sure as she feels.

Elphaba trusts Galinda. She trusts the blonde with her life. So when Galinda crawls over the ledge of the bell tower, holding out her hand for Elphaba to join her, Elphaba doesn't hesitate. She reaches out to Galinda, her fingers wrapping tightly around the blonde's. Galinda feels a rush of heat roll down her arm as Elphaba hand clasps tightly with her own. And when Elphaba looks back into her eyes, giving her a shaky smile, Galinda can't help herself from smiling back and squeezing the green hand tighter.

They carefully make their way down the slope of the steep roof, being cautious not to step on the damaged sections. If the shingles were to slip, their position would be given away… or worse, one of them could fall to their death. Galinda spots a tree a few yards down the Cloister, its branches just brushing the roof. She pulls Elphaba toward it.

Not a second later, an arrow whizzes by the side of Elphaba's head. The hair on her neck bristles at the close swipe. Galinda whirls, pulling her bow from her back and quickly stringing an arrow toward the shooter below.

"The other one you fool!" a voice shouts up from the ground. "There!"

Galinda barely manages to duck as another arrow comes flying toward her this time. She spots the shooter pulling another arrow from his quiver. Galinda takes aim and lets her own arrow fly, the deadly shot finding its mark center in the mans chest. He collapses not a moment later.

"We need to get down!" Galinda exclaims in a hushed voice as she ushers Elphaba along the roof toward the tree. A shingle gives way under Elphaba's boot, her footing lost as she crashes to the roof. She lets out a strangled cry as her body tumbles down, more shingles coming undone in her wake.

"Elphaba!" Galinda shouts as the green woman lets out a stifled scream and slides quickly towards the edge.

Elphaba reaches up, hands clawing at the smooth clay of the roof tiles, desperate to find a hold, _anywhere_. She feels her legs fall over the edge, her stomach dropping as her body follows. A yelp escapes her throat as she manages to grip the wooden beam running the length of the roof edge, her nails digging into the rotting timber. She jerks to the left from the momentum of her body coming to such an abrupt halt. She raises her other hand to secure her hold, feet dangling, desperate for footing, her chest heaving with quick pants. She dares not look down, but finds her eyes betraying her otherwise. One quick glance has her wishing she hadn't. Above her she can see Galinda trying to make her way down, launching arrow after arrow into the guards rounding the corner of the Cloister below.

An arrow skims Elphaba's side, tearing at her blouse and ripping the skin beneath. Elphaba hisses, biting her lip to keep from crying out at the stinging sensation that erupts across her stomach.

Galinda sees the pain etching itself across Elphaba's features. Her stomach knots at the expression, her brow dipping low. _Someone will pay for that_, she thinks with a growl. It doesn't take her but a second to find the archer. A smug smile pulls at the woman's painted lips far below. Galinda strings up her last arrow, and with the point directed straight for the soldier's head, Galinda lets it find its mark. Right between the surprised woman's now dying eyes.

Elphaba feels the wood splintering under her fingers as Galinda finally reaches her. The blonde grabs a hold of Elphaba's wrist and the survival pack on her back, hoisting her back onto the roof with great effort. Their eyes meet as Galinda lets go, a spark igniting inside Elphaba at the worry she sees within Galinda's eyes. It causes her breath to catch but the emotion is quickly pushed aside in the blue eyes, replaced by Galinda's usual severity. She feels Galinda wrap a hand around her wrist again, pulling Elphaba to her feet as she guides them to the tree.

They climb down as quickly as possible, thankful that there are no other Gale Force round the back of the Cloister. Galinda can still hear their shouts from the courtyard, ever incessant and growing angrier by the minute. She jumps down from the last branch, landing on solid ground. Elphaba struggles with the packs as she finally finds the ground, thankful to still be alive. Her side burns and she reaches down to touch the wound. Her fingers come away sticky and warm with blood.

She doesn't get a chance to inspect it as Galinda tugs her across the dewy grass and over to the downed female soldier. Galinda pulls the arrows from the woman's full quiver to fill her own. Elphaba notices a slip of paper sticking from between the soldeirs's jacket lapels. She pulls it free, and quickly unfolds what she realizes is a page from the Emerald City newspaper. There, on the front page staring straight back at her is a picture of Galinda. And beside an artists rendering of what she knows to be herself even if the likeness is nowhere near accurate.

What shakes her more is the text atop their pictures.

_**WANTED:**_

_For Treason Against the Wizard_

_Reward for Capture_

Above her own image it reads: _Alive._

Above Galinda's: _Dead._

Her heart stills at the implication of the singular word. She doesn't get a chance to read any further when Galinda yanks on her arm again, sending them both running off into the woods.

The newspaper falls back to the ground, resting atop the dead soldier's chest as Elphaba and Galinda escape into the night.

* * *

><p>Elphaba can't stop thinking about the newspaper, even now as dawn slowly approaches and she sits in a barren field far from the Cloister, still winded from the narrow escape. The Wizard clearly wants her in his custody, <em>alive<em>. The price of her capture far exceeding that of the blondes. She doesn't know if she should tell Galinda what she read. How the Wizard clearly holds no regard for the blonde's life. A few yards away Galinda is pacing, deep in thought. Elphaba doesn't wish to bother the blonde, knowing she has more than enough to worry about at the moment. Every so often one of Galinda's mutters carries over the grass, the most prominent being a decision of sorts.

Should they travel on the Vinkus River or stay on near the Gillikin?

Elphaba watches Galinda's brow knot as she ponders which is the better option. The green woman's side aches, the pain dulled by now but still ever present. She ignores it mostly. She's had worse injuries before. Far worse. If she had control of her magic she could just heal herself, she thinks. Oz, she could just fly them to the Vinkus if she were truly as powerful as Galinda imagines her to be. Elphaba sighs, kicking at a rock.

The sun starts peeking over the horizon as she stares down at the small rock.

_What would it hurt_, she thinks… _to try?_

She's read levitating an object is the simplest form of magic to perform. What could be more basic than picking up a tiny rock? Elphaba sits up straighter, focusing hard on the rock resting, still, upon the dirt. She squints at it, as if merely glaring at the rock will cause it to lift from the ground.

The longer the rock lies still, the more frustrated Elphaba becomes. Until, finally, the rock begins vibrating. Elphaba smiles at the progress but frowns just as the rock lies still once more.

Elphaba feels hopeless and lets out a groan, posture slumping, her chin now resting in her upturned palm. The sudden move sends a spike of pain piercing through her injured side. Elphaba winces at the sensation but brushes the pain quickly aside. It seems trivial in comparison to her inability to perform such a simple feat of sorcery. She's an absolute failure at controlling her magic. She'll be lucky if she can repay Galinda when she's withered and old at the rate she seems to be progressing.

A shadow looms over Elphaba in the dawn light, her heart skipping a beat as she looks up to find Galinda standing before her. Galinda extends her hand down and Elphaba allows the blonde to pull her to her feet.

"How's your side?" she asks, looking to the small bloodstain along Elphaba's shirt.

Elphaba gives Galinda as warm of a smile as she can muster, thankful the dark fabric hides how large the stain truly is. "It'll be all right, nothing to worry over."

"Are you sure?" Galinda asks. She's seen smaller cuts get infected before and doesn't want the same to happen to Elphaba.

But Elphaba nods, "It's nothing, barely a scratch," she says. "It looks worse then it really is, trust me."

Galinda looks up into Elphaba's eyes, the morning light making them almost a light brown. She wants to believe Elphaba, to trust her. "Okay," Galinda says then gives Elphaba a reassuring smile. "But if it starts to-"

"I'll let you know straight away." Elphaba smiles back.

"Good," Galinda nods as she picks her bow from the ground. She hands it to Elphaba. "And I think you better learn how to use this."

Elphaba shakes her head, suddenly dizzy at the thought of harming anyone with an arrow in the way Galinda did mere hours ago. "N-no, it's all right."

But Galinda will not take no for an answer. Elphaba _needs_ to know how to protect herself and she better start learning now. "I don't think so green bean," Galinda says with a chuckle, using the term more out of friendly jest than to upset Elphaba. She pulls Elphaba back toward her and forces the bow into the girls' hands. Then she repositions it properly in her grasp.

Elphaba tries not to think about how close Galinda is to her and what it's doing to her body. Galinda pushes Elphaba's shoulders back before kicking between the green girls legs, a silent instruction to widen her stance. Elphaba blushes, doing as instructed until Galinda nods in approval as she takes a step back.

"Now for the easy part," Galinda smirks, picking an arrow out from her quiver and moving to stand behind Elphaba. "Oz, you're tall." She says, leaning over Elphaba's shoulder as she stands to her toes. "Okay, so hold this here, fingers splayed like this," she instructs as Elphaba hesitantly slides her hand against Galinda's, mimicking the blonde's fingers.

"I'm never going to use this thing," Elphaba tells her as Galinda moves Elphaba's fingers into the correct alignment. She can feel Galinda breathing evenly along her neck and Elphaba gulps, hoping the soldier didn't feel the shiver that just ran up her spine.

Elphaba's hair smells wonderful, Galinda thinks. She wonders if hers smells the same. Like honey and lavender. She can't seem to want to move away until a voice somewhere in her head screams at her, _she's_ _infected_!

Elphaba feels Galinda's breath sweep along her skin as she blonde gasps and tears herself from the green woman. Elphaba is caught off guard by the sudden move. Her hand releases the arrow, which flies out across the field in a high, shaky arc.

Seeing the poor shot combined with Elphaba's absolutely crestfallen expression causes an eruption of giggles to spew from Galinda's mouth. "Terrible," Galinda says between her chuckles. "Absolutely terrible."

No one is more surprised by the sudden sounds than Galinda herself. Just mere seconds ago she was brushing furiously at her skin as if the mere act of touching Elphaba would leave her stricken. Galinda feels a bit silly now as she thinks back on it. How many times has she touched Elphaba now? And yet here she stands, still not stricken, still very much herself. The green woman's skin isn't contagious. And didn't Elphaba explain to her in vivid detail how her blood isn't either?

Why can't Galinda just trust her?

Why must that voice always cry out foul?

The more time Galinda spends with Elphaba the less she believes her to be of Undead kin. The odd girl is human. More human than even Galinda feels most of the time.

Elphaba frowns as she looks across the field to where her arrow lies. "I told you."

Humans have to protect themselves. And if last night is any indication than Elphaba needs all the help she can get.

Galinda moves to her quiver and grabs another arrow. "Here," she hands it to Elphaba.

Elphaba strings it onto the bow, Galinda impressed by how quickly Elphaba remembered where to place her fingers. This time the arrow flies true and straight, landing far off in the distance.

Elphaba beams at Galinda and Galinda can't help herself as she gives the green woman an impulsive side-hug. Elphaba cringes, breath catching at the contact and the sensation of her wound splitting open further.

"Sorry!" Galinda whispers, pulling away quickly.

"It's all right," Elphaba tells her, touching the injury through the fabric tenderly. She tries not to flinch, knowing Galinda is watching her intently.

"That's it, I'm fixing you up myself," Galinda says, turning to the survival pack. She's sure there's some gauze and tape in there. Maybe some healing ointment if she's lucky.

"It's fine, Galinda," Elphaba says, coming up to Galinda's side.

Neither girl notices how the birds grow silent. The wind stills in the field.

"It is not _fine,_ Elphaba. Now let me see it," Galinda demands, reaching for Elphaba's belt.

Elphaba squirms away from Galinda's hands, not wanting the blonde to see her scarred skin.

"Elphaba," Galinda whines as the green girl once again slips from her grasp. "If you keep jumping away I really _am_ going to start thinking you're stricken!"

"I'm not!" Elphaba counters, but can't help feeling elated at the blonde's words. When Galinda reaches for her again she swats the blonde's hands away. "I've already explained to you why I'm green!"

"Yeah, yeah. I _get _it. Now hold still so I can _get_ you."

A few Undead watch the exchange from the edge of the field, the smell of recently spilled blood exciting their senses. They make their way across the dead grass, some tripping over broken ankles while others run on their freshly turned legs.

Galinda suddenly feels a chill roll down her spine. She slaps a hand over Elphaba's mouth, shushing the green girl's protests. And then she hears it, faint but approaching quickly. The hungry moans of Unmentionables.

"Shit," Galinda curses, running for her bow and quiver, slinging the sheath over her back. Elphaba rushes to her side, doing the same with their packs. A screech tears through the field and both woman turn at the sound, eyes wide at the sight. Dozens upon dozens of Undead stream toward them from the edge of the forest. Galinda pushes Elphaba behind her and quickly launches a few arrows into the oncoming horde as the woman retreat down the field.

Three Undead drop from Galinda's shots, unmoving to the ground, only to be replaced by more.

Galinda realizes she will run out of arrows soon if she is to keep this up. Running will have to do. "You need to do something, Elphaba!" she hisses as they sprint down the field, the green woman already growing fatigued. Galinda slows heir pace, running backwards as she fires a few more shots into the fast approaching horde.

"I c-can't," Elphaba whimpers, feeling anything but capable of summoning magic. The wound in her side protests painfully with every step forward she takes. The hurt muddling her mind. Thoughts far too frazzled to even focus long enough to concentrate like she was just moments before with the rock.

Galinda has lost track of the number of Undead she's downed. There are just too many, and no way they can ever outrun them. Not the ones so freshly turned their skin still hasn't tinted green yet. Galinda thinks for a fleeting moment that she can escape. She can outrun the beasts... but it would mean leaving Elphaba behind.

Galinda stops, her aim far more improved as she continues firing arrows.

"Make another wall of fire!" Galinda exclaims, three arrows left. She focuses her next hit, decapitating one Undead before the arrow strikes the heart of the one behind. They both collapse.

It's still not enough.

"Elphaba!"

But Elphaba is paralyzed with fear once more. She can't even feel the hum of magic coursing through her as it once did when she found herself in this kind of life threatening position.

The last arrow downs an Undead just a few yards away.

All that's left is the dagger and pistol.

Galinda turns her distressed gaze on Elphaba.

The air remains still, devoid of charge.

"I'm s-sorry, Galinda," Elphaba whispers through trembling lips. "I can't…"


	9. The Scrow

**AN: **Hello everyone! I just wanted to let you all know the schedule for updates since some people have sent messages wishing to know. While I don't have set days in mind expect a new chapter about two to three times a week with the last chapter being posted on...wait for it... yes, you guessed it, Halloween haha. I am far too predictable huh? ;) Anyway I hope you all continue to enjoy the fic. Thank you so much for reading and especially to those leaving all the great comments! May zombies never plague your homes! Now onto the madness!

**Chapter 9**

_The Scrow_

Galinda knows it's only a matter of clock ticks until the first of the Undead are upon them. And without the aid of Elphaba's power there's no way she can kill them all. But she'll be damned if she doesn't _try_. In one swift motion, Galinda pulls both her pistol and dagger from their holders. She throws her dagger with a flick of her wrist into the forehead of the closest Unmentionable, then turns, not bothering to watch as the creature falls and forces the pistol into Elphaba's trembling hands.

"If I go down… you-" Galinda begins to say but her voice catches on the sudden lump lodged in her throat. She stares at Elphaba for a moment, terrified brown eyes meeting resolute blue. Their gazes lock for just a second, but it's enough to convey to Elphaba what Galinda _needs_ her to do. Elphaba barely gives a nod, body absolutely rigid with fear. And then Galinda takes off, running straight at the horde.

Her legs carry her fast and she swoops down, wrenching her dagger from the head of the now dead Unmentionable. She clutches it tightly into her palm, wielding it at her side as another Undead lunges toward her. Galinda's boot connects solidly with its belly, the once alive woman doubling over, bile ejecting from her mouth. Galinda represses the urge to gag as she drives her blade into the back of the Undead's neck. Oz, she hates when they die with a full stomach; her boots are absolutely soiled now. She twists the knife deep into the Verdigris' spine, snapping the woman's neck instantly. Another kick shoves the body away, her blade slick with blood as she ducks from the arms of a freshly turned man and guts the next Undead in her path.

Elphaba can't take her eyes off Galinda, mesmerized. The soldier's motions are swift, calculated. Each curve of her arms ends with a forceful, deadly blow. But there are just so many of them…

The warm metal of the gun clutched in Elphaba's palms almost feels as though it's burning her skin. She looks down at the weapon, at the way the sun gleams from its silver surface. As if promising her an escape from this reality. Galinda needs her to use this… needs her to end her life if she's overtaken.

Because that is what Elphaba realizes is soon to happen. Soon Galinda's lone dagger will not be enough. Even the best fall at the hands of many. And despite Elphaba's fright she cannot let Galinda down. Not after everything the blonde has done for her. She will do this for Galinda.

The soldier who saved her life deserves to die free from the burden of becoming a soulless monster.

And then she will turn the gun on herself.

Elphaba closes her eyes tightly, willing air deep into her lungs. She feels her arms rising, the pistol held tightly between her two hands. Her two very much still shaking, green hands. When Elphaba opens her eyes she can clearly see Galinda, blouse splattered with Undead blood, still fighting the horde off.

A shot rings out in the distance behind Elphaba causing the green girl to pull the trigger in surprise. Her bullet, _thankfully_, misses Galinda entirely but finds its home inside the shoulder of an Unmentionable near the fringe. The man gives out a mangled cry, glazed eyes narrowing in rage as he turns to Elphaba. The others of the horde turn toward the origin of the gunshot as well, the loud bang still echoing in their hollow ears.

Another Verdigris gives a screech, gender indistinguishable through its corpse-like figure. It pushes aside its neighbor, stumbling toward Elphaba on its broken feet. The others follow suit. Galinda's already overworked heart starts beating quicker as she realizes what's happening. She rushes forward, hurrying to get to the front of the horde.

Hurrying before they can make it to Elphaba.

Elphaba, who still stands with the smoking gun wielded in front of her, eyes wide and frozen in place.

"Run!" Galinda shouts at her. Hearing the blonde's voice, breathless as it is, spurs Elphaba finally into motion. She sprints off down the field.

Elphaba's never run so fast in her life as she is now. Ahead of her is a cloud of dust, rising hurriedly into the air. Elphaba thinks if they can make it through the small storm, they can perhaps lose the Undead entirely.

But as she grows closer she notices a large figure emerging from within the cloud. Its skin is dark and at first Elphaba assumes it to be a shadow but then the sun breaks brilliantly across the figures back. Elphaba is surprised by what she sees, her feet rooted to the spot.

A massive rhino is charging across the barren field, the cloud of dust obviously the wake of its hefty feet impacting the loose dirt below. When its beady amber eyes meet Elphaba's she's even more stunned to see the animal's lips curl into what is distinctly a smirk. The Rhino gives a snort, lowering its head, horn pointed straight at Elphaba.

Galinda urges her body forward faster when she sees the Animal making a beeline for Elphaba. She wants to shout at the Rhino to stop, that Elphaba isn't one of them, but her chest is heaving too much from the physical exertion. She can barely breathe let alone slow down to allow herself the breath to shout. If she does, it'll be too late. So she sprints out to the front of the Undead horde. One jab of her dagger into the side of the Verdigris' head leading the pack kills him instantly. His body crumbles to the ground and the others at the front trip over him as they pass.

Galinda barely manages to throw her own body out in front of Elphaba's, pulling the stunned girl behind her. The Rhino gives a great shake of its head, quickly diverting his momentum around the girls. He barely moves himself out of the girl's way, side-swiping them as he passes. Elphaba and Galinda are easily knocked from their feet by the Rhino's weight and land roughly in the dirt a few paces away.

Elphaba nearly bites her tongue off as the wound in her side splits open more, pain consuming her entirely.

Galinda coughs, sitting up along the rocky ground as the cloud of dust surrounds the girls in the wake of the Rhino's charge. She turns to see Elphaba sitting up as well. The green girls back arches crookedly as the she bends to inspect her side, breathing heavily into the crook of her arm. Galinda glances up to the Rhino, glad to see him distracted by the rest of the horde instead of Elphaba.

As the dust settles she crawls the few feet separating her from the injured girl.

"Are you all right?" Galinda asks, voice strained and winded. Elphaba looks up at Galinda, surprised to find the blonde's face splattered with blood. Sweat drips down Galinda's brow, stained red by the tainted liquid. Any thought of answering the blonde leaves her mind as Elphaba reaches up quickly, wiping the blood from Galinda's temple before it can flow down and catch in her eyes. She can't believe the blonde didn't think to remove it first.

Galinda feels her very being still at Elphaba's soft touch. She hadn't even realized she'd stopped breathing until her body screams for more air. She swallows thickly as Elphaba pulls her hand away and wipes her green fingers clean along the edge of her skirt. When Galinda looks down and sees the red marring the fabric she understands, a pang of fear striking her as she hastily wipes the rest from her face in the elbow of her blouse.

Inhaling deeply to calm herself, Galinda meets Elphaba's worried gaze. The blonde's voice is lost, throat dry at that single look. She uses her eyes instead to ask if the green woman is all right and Elphaba nods twice before turning her attention back to the Rhino. He's just finished off the last of the horde, horn absolutely drenched in Undead blood. As he makes his way slowly over to the girls Galinda can't help as she stands to her feet, pulling Elphaba up along beside her.

She steps out in front of the green girl just as the Rhino stops a few paces from both woman. He tilts his head, one eye narrowing as he inspects both woman.

Galinda knows her dagger will be useless against the Rhino. The blade would barely knick his thick skin. She decides a different approach is in order. After all, he did just save their lives. She takes step forward, hands raised out to her sides. "I know what you're thinking," she says, the Rhino squints more upon hearing Galinda's hoarse voice. "But she's not a Verdigris."

The Rhino gives a huff, Undead blood flying from his nose and spraying the corners to Galinda's already ruined boots. "Her skin tells me otherwise," he replies in a deep booming rumble of a voice that each woman feels vibrating in her chest.

Galinda tries to think of a way to respond but Elphaba beats her to it, stepping up beside the blonde as she says to the Rhino, "M-my skin is the unfortunate recipient of a hor-horrible prank." She looks down to Galinda, the blonde giving a small nod of encouragement. "We've been trying to wash it out for days now."

The Rhino snorts, unbelieving of the tale. He walks closer to the girls, Galinda once again moving to stand in front of Elphaba. "Stand aside girl," he orders, nudging Galinda easily away from Elphaba with his horn. Galinda stumbles to the side and quickly regains her footing, as Elphaba stands upright, allowing the Rhino to smell her.

Galinda's eyes dart to the pistol lying a few feet away. She could easily make a dive for it and kill the Rhino with one well-placed shot through the eye.

But Elphaba shakes her head slowly at Galinda, and the blonde remains still.

"You don't carry their scent," the Rhino hums as he takes a step back from Elphaba, eyes no longer set in a stern glare. He smiles, or as much as he can anyway. "What did you ever do to get yourself in this mess?"

Elphaba chuckles nervously. "I w-wish I knew."

"And you say it's been this way a few days now?" The Rhino asks, eyes kind, amused even.

Galinda steps forward, stomach unsettled by the Rhino's change of heart, "Yes, but we're sure it will come out eventually! And thank you, for taking care of that horde but we should perhaps be on our way again."

Elphaba nods as Galinda finally makes it back to her side.

"Look, my men are just down there," the Rhino says, nodding toward the horizon. "We were hunting some game when I heard your gunshot and came to make sure everything was all right. At least come with us back to our camp to settle the matter of that wound you have there. We have a doctor, he'd be more than happy to see to you."

_A doctor_, Galinda thinks. Elphaba could really use one right now. There was no telling how bad the wound was, especially with the amount of blood now staining the green girls' blouse. They could rest… they could be safe, if only for a short while. They can leave before dusk.

And anyway wasn't Morrible always preaching that a good solider is only as good so long as she has fresh legs and a sharp mind?

Galinda gives the Rhino a hesitant, yet warm smile. "We don't mean to impose upon your camp," she says. "And especially make use of your supplies."

"Nonsense," the Rhino gives a snort. "Hospitality is not lost in Oz. Just because the land is being ravaged by feral beasts does not mean we must resort to acting as beasts as well."

"And your camp, it's not too far off?" Galinda asks.

The Rhino shakes his head. "About an hour North of here I gather. No more though."

_It's along the way_, Galinda thinks. And when she looks back to Elphaba and sees the girls' once vibrant green skin now far paler, the bloodstain even larger, Galinda's uncertainty is pushed aside. "All right"," she says. "We'll go, but we won't stay long. We really do need to be on our way."

"Of course," the Rhino says, as he begins to walk, indicating with a nod of his head for the women to follow. "And I must warn that our Bloodhound, Dain, will need to ensure you are not of tainted blood. He can detect a soon-to-turn human within _hours _of being bitten. Saved us many a time, he has."

Galinda glances to Elphaba, watching for the green girl's reaction. But Elphaba remains a mask of, what Galinda knows to be, feigned composure, nodding along politely to the Rhino's words. Elphaba feels anything but calm though. The Rhino may not have smelled the Undead upon her skin but what if Dain does? She's not like everyone else on Oz. Her blood is different.

What if the Bloodhound senses the change?

Elphaba looks over to Galinda as the blonde collects their belongings off the ground a ways behind. Galinda tosses both bags over her shoulders, giving Elphaba a small 'I've got these' smile once she returns. She's absolutely loaded down with their things. The bow looks particularly painful, sticking out from under her arm at an odd angle.

"I'm fine," Galinda says when Elphaba opens her mouth to speak. "Don't worry."

As they walk toward the small contingent of men far ahead waiting for the Rhino to return he mentions suddenly, "I don't believe I caught your names. I am Harvler."

"Milla," Galinda answers smoothly and then points over to Elphaba. "And my friend is…" she pauses for a moment as a name comes to mind, "Arria."

Elphaba quirks a brow, mouthing the name back to Galinda over Harvler's head. Galinda gives a subtle shrug, focusing her attention ahead and hoping Elphaba doesn't notice the blush rising to her cheeks. She knows quite well why that particular name slipped from her lips but curses herself for the lapse anyway. Elphaba may have reminded her of the servant at one point, but it's clear now the two are quite different.

She just hopes Elphaba has the sense not to ask about it later.

* * *

><p>Harvler was right, the camp wasn't more than an hour's walk. His men were nothing but courteous once he explained to them the situation. All of them practically tripped over themselves to alleviate Galinda of the burdens slung over her shoulders. She has a funny feeling in her gut about them all but attests it to the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. She feels on edge, jumpy and a bit suspicious. Why are they being so kind? Can there truly be good people left on Oz?<p>

_It is possible_, she thinks. Yackle was more than helpful as well.

Galinda doesn't want to share her concern with Elphaba, knowing the green woman is already wound like a tightly coiled spring. And as much a façade as Elphaba is trying to put forth, Galinda knows better. Her hand brushes Elphaba's as she moves closer to the scared woman. The light touch sends a shiver up both girls' arms.

Elphaba feels her cheeks flush at the sensation.

Galinda moves away, stuffing her hands deep into her pockets.

Dain the Bloodhound greets them at the entrance to the surprisingly large camp. The Scrow is what they learned the people here are called. Galinda recognized the name. Fiyero had explained to her on quite a few occasions of the warring tribes of the Vinkus. Mostly she just let him prattle on while she practiced dagger throwing. But of what she caught of his speech about the Scrow he never mentioned anything about the tribe being nothing short of an elaborate refugee camp. One quite beyond the Vinkus borders to boot. And a highly decorated refugee camp at that. Galinda's never seen quite so many wildflowers pinned up along tents in such an ornamental fashion.

_It is sort of pretty really_, she thinks. _In a desperate kind of way._

Unless they are all med tents and the flowers are pinned to keep the smell at bay. She's heard about that tactic being employed during more dangerous field missions. Yet now instead of thinking of her friends lying atop those surgery tables, she clearly pictures Elphaba instead. A flash of an imaginary moment passes before her eyes: one lone male figure hovering over the prone girl, ready to slash her open.

The image makes Galinda's blood run cold.

She hates Elphaba's father. Hates the man with a passion! What type of man could scar such a good person so unapologetically? No, not unapologetically. That would imply he was sorry for his actions. Galinda has a feeling the despicable man is quite proud of what he's done. It sickens her. Did he ever spare a single thought about how much he was harming his only daughter?

Did Elphaba ever ask him to stop?

Would it have mattered?

"Picked a good day to be found," Dain tells them as he takes a hold of Galinda's hand between his paws, shaking her from her thoughts. He's an old Dog; Galinda can tell that just by the gray hairs dotting his otherwise brown chin. He brings his nose down over the back of her hand, barely sniffing before lowering her hand gently back to her side. "Clean," he declares.

"Why is today a good day?" Galinda asks, trying to keep Dain distracted as Elphaba cautiously makes her way to the Dog. The girls' eyes meet briefly as Harvler explains the story of Elphaba's coloring to Dain. Galinda tries to silently will Elphaba to stay calm, to relax. If Elphaba has been truthful with her, if she truly isn't infected like she so adamantly proclaims, then this shall be over with as quickly as it was for Galinda.

"Unfortunate indeed," Dain agrees with Harvler's assumption on Elphaba's unlucky shade. He smiles up at Elphaba. His pointed teeth just barely peek out through the long lips of his drooping mouth. "I'm sorry about what's happened to you but may I please have your hand, my lady?"

Elphaba tries to keep her hand as still as possible as she places it atop Dain's paw. Her heart is thudding loudly against her chest. She's sure the Bloodhound can sense her fear. He's sure to feel her pulse the moment his hyper sensitive nose touches her skin.

He lowers his nose, giving a few sniffs to the back of her hand. It tickles and Elphaba's fingers twitch at the sensation. The Bloodhound looks back up to Elphaba, his forehead ridge quirking in question. "I don't smell paint," he notes.

Elphaba gulps.

"Maybe that's why it won't wash off then," Galinda supplies. Then she gasps loudly, eyes dramatically wide. "Do you think perhaps it could be a _spell_ then?"

Harvler grunts. "It very well could be."

Dain continues smelling Elphaba's hand, turning it over to inspect her palm. He moves his nose over her wrist, forehead crinkling in concentration. The green girl smells familiar, eerily so, yet he knows that's impossible. There's no way this human could ever smell like an Animal.

"Please," Elphaba whispers so as only Dain will hear. He looks up at Elphaba, eyes curious. "I'm not one of them."

"No," Dain says back just as softly. He stands back upright along his hind legs. "You're far more interesting."

Galinda watches the exchange, relieved to know Elphaba has passed the Bloodhound's test, but more so that Elphaba has been telling her the truth all along. She truly is not of Verdigris kind. And if that's not the cause to why she's green… then what is? She wonders what more there could be to the odd girl. She's curious as to why Dain is so captivated with her as well.

"What do you mean, _interesting_?" Harvler asks.

"Exactly that," Dain says, still watching Elphaba almost as if she were a prize specimen trapped in a glass jar. "She's unlike anything I've ever smelled before. Not Undead, but also not entirely… human."

Harvler turns on Elphaba, eyes narrowed, muscles tensing under his massive armor skin. "What are you?" he demands.

The men behind him raise their rifles at the tone, pointing their weapons at Elphaba. Galinda instinctively moves closer to the green girl, standing directly in line of their fire.

Elphaba doesn't know how to answer. She doesn't even know how to process what Dain has just revealed. Not entirely human? What does that even begin to mean? Does that make her part human, part something else? And what could the other else be if it's not Undead? _What am I?_ Elphaba thinks frantically to herself. She takes a deep breath, realizing Harvler grows ever more impatient with every clock tick she spends silent. When she looks back up at him, she tries to maintain her composure. "I don't know," she says quietly.

"Well you're either human or your not. _Which is it_?" the Rhino snarls.

Elphaba can hear the click of the rifle's hammers, the weapons ready to fire at a moments notice. Galinda grabs a hold of Elphaba's arm, moving her body closer. Elphaba closes her eyes, pulling as much strength as she can from Galinda's solid presence as she answers, "I am human."

"She's right," Dain offers, still processing the smells filtering through his head. "She is human, just different human."

And then something clicks in Galinda's head. She thinks she knows what Dain must be sensing. "_Magical,_ different?" she hints.

Dain grins. "That's it! It's as if magic is fused into her very _being_. Now that I think of it Nastoya smelled almost the same as you."

Galinda briefly remembers Fiyero mentioning that name once. "Who?"

"Princess Nastoya, chieftess of the Scrow clan. She was the one who lead us here to safety. She built this community as a safe haven for Animals and humans alike," Dain explains, wistful smile pulling at his flopping lips. "She carried magic within her blood as well. A spell cast upon her by a witch long ago gave her the ability to turn human at will."

"It's what killed her, that's what it did!" Harvler exclaims, stomping his foot on the ground. "You're a _sorceress_?" he asks, spitting the word from his mouth disdainfully.

When Elphaba meets his gaze, she's surprised to find tears collecting in the burly Rhino's eyes. "N-no," Elphaba shakes her head. "I swear to y-you I'm n-not.

"Harvler, please. The girl means no harm," Dain says to the incensed Rhino. "If Nastoya were still alive, she would have welcomed her with _open_ arms." Dain tells him.

It takes Harvler a moment but he composes himself, apologizing for his reaction. "I am sorry Milla and Arria," he says. "Please, let me take you inside to the doctor."

"Yes, you didn't come all this way to hear tales of our woe," Dain says with a hearty chuckle. As Elphaba passes he lays a paw gently on her arm. "I do hope you are able to meet with someone who can help out with your color issue. Though if you ask me, it's a lovely shade of gray." He winks.

Harvler gives a mighty laugh having overheard. "Dain fancies himself a comedian. Now, come along women. We'll get you patched up and then it's time to join the celebration!"

"Celebration?" Galinda wonders aloud.

"The first wedding we've had in years!" Harvler exclaims, boisterous. He nudges the girls forward into the Scrow camp.

Galinda finds her stomach fluttering with that same uneasy feeling again as they walk down the worn dirt path toward the center of the camp.

But then she feels Elphaba's hand brush alongside her own again, reminding her why she even bothered allowing them to travel here in the first place.

Elphaba needs to see the doctor.

They'll leave as soon as she's patched up.

* * *

><p>Elphaba had been so hesitant about showing the doctor her wound, making Galinda turn around facing the entrance flap before she'd even raise her shirt the few inches required for the elder man to inspect the deep gash. She hoped he wouldn't mention anything about her scars and was pleasantly surprised when the doctor didn't so much as blink when he saw them. She relaxed more after that, even as he carefully stitched her side. Galinda meant to leave the camp the minute the kindly doctor finished wrapping the last of the bandages around Elphaba's torso. But the nurse aid, Qwynn, <em>insisted<em> on having their soiled clothes and boots laundered before they left. Elphaba had agreed they were indeed filthy and potential magnets for more Undead.

Galinda relented, accepting Qwynn's offer as well as the simple dresses and sandals provided to them for the time being. She could spare a few more hours, Galinda thought. They could still leave the Scrow no later than dusk by the time their clothes had dried.

Galinda sighs thinking how that time has come and passed now. The sun sank beneath the line of trees mere minutes ago. They will definitely have to stay within the camp for the night.

It is safer, even despite Galinda's feelings otherwise, to stay then to try and make their own camp elsewhere. At least here they are surrounded by others. The odds would be stacked ever in their favor for survival if a horde were to come. Galinda assumes a horde will be upon them soon, what with all the noise of parties going on in the camp now that the wedding is over.

Elphaba found the entire ceremony quite beautiful, smiling as the teary bride and beaming groom vowed their lives to each other. Galinda couldn't stomach watching, instead volunteering herself for guard duty along the edge of the camp.

She didn't need to be reminded of what she was soon to face.

She didn't want to even think about it.

Elphaba had found her of course, just after the ceremony ended. She could sense Galinda's withdrawal, her need not to be questioned. So she merely handed the morose blonde a mug of drink, giving her a small smile, before returning to the shack they've been lent for their stay tonight.

Galinda sighs, thinking back to that hour. It was pointless standing guard. There were at least three other men within ten paces of her. They were more then protected if a horde were to come tonight. And she didn't quite appreciate them stealing furtive glances her way every so often. _Cheeky bastards_, she thinks as she stands, leaning against the entrance post to the small shack and takes another sip of the frothy drink. The alcohol burns her throat as she swallows, and warms her stomach. This is her second drink tonight and she can already feel the effects of the strong liquor invading her senses. Behind her, illuminated by a small oil lamp that hangs beside her, is Elphaba. She sits along one of the beds of straw, rereading her journals by the low light of the flickering flame. Every so often the green girl will itch her side, the bandages obviously irritating her skin.

"Don't," Galinda tells her, the second time she catches Elphaba scratching. Elphaba looks up, raising her brows at the sudden interruption. Galinda points with her mug to Elphaba's side.

"Oh," Elphaba sighs. "I know I shouldn't be touching it. Bad habit I suppose."

Galinda tries not to think about what kind of person has a habit of scratching their bandages. But she knows it's not Elphaba's fault. Elphaba is not the one she is angry with. She is not the one causing her insides to flare and fingers to clench the mug so tightly she wouldn't be surprised if the hardened clay cracked.

Oz, she needs another drink, she thinks, and takes a large gulp, downing the rest of the warm brew.

Elphaba senses the shift in Galinda's demeanor and stands to her feet, worried for the blonde. As she makes her way to Galinda's side she can see the soldier's shoulders tensing. Elphaba feels confused at Galinda's hesitance. Since when does she shrink from her presence? Elphaba wants to ask what is bothering the soldier but before she can Galinda gives a hasty excuse and disappears out into the mass of Animals and people still celebrating outside.

Elphaba slumps against the same pole Galinda had been resting her weight upon, eyes focused on the last spot she glimpsed the soldier's blonde hair. She thinks she knows what is bothering Galinda. For all the blonde's adamancy otherwise, Elphaba knows Galinda is not ready to be married to Fiyero. She's also pretty sure Galinda doesn't even love him. Or at least that the blonde isn't _in_ love with him. After seeing the way the bride spoke of her husband… how her voice became ever so soft as she spoke of his devotion, Elphaba realizes she's never once heard that same tone in Galinda's voice when she speaks of Fiyero.

She's not even sure Galinda is capable of sounding that way about anyone.

Let alone ever about her.

Elphaba groans as the thought passes her mind. Of course Galinda could never feel that way about her. Not about a bony, sheltered, scarred and green monstrosity. Galinda deserves to feel that way about someone far more deserving, and far more _fitting_. Someone just as strong-willed as she is, maybe even more so to even her temper. Someone fearless, to match her passion.

Someone just as stunning. Just as handsome… or gorgeous, she corrects herself.

Arria must have been someone like that. She wonders when she'll ever get the chance to _truly_ ask Galinda about her. When she broached the subject over lunch the blonde's entire demeanor bristled and all she got in response was that she was a part of Galinda's past. But the way the soldiers cheeks tinged pink made Elphaba think otherwise. Arria was more than just a fleeting point in Galinda's life. It didn't surprise Elphaba in the least that Galinda was once with a woman. It seems natural almost, she thinks now, that Galinda's sexuality is as fluid as her combat.

Elphaba's never really paid much attention to her own desires before. There was never really the opportunity to do so whilst she was enduring life with Frexspar. Because that is what she now realizes her life always was. A pitiful state of merely existing. An acceptance of a fate she could have easily changed… if only she knew there were people like Galinda in the world.

The soldier will have to return at some point. She can't avoid Elphaba forever. So Elphaba returns back to her straw bed, sitting down amongst the itchy hay.

She'll wait.

She's waited this long to have a friend, what could a few moments longer hurt?

* * *

><p>Galinda is doing what she does best when faced with circumstances she wishes to avoid. She drowns herself in liquor. It never fails to make her numb, to quiet her mind and lower her inhibitions. Lower the walls she's so safely constructed to keep unwanted emotions at bay.<p>

To keep what she desires most hidden. Safe.

When Galinda is drunk she could care less about magic.

She misses whispered words, soft hands and dark nights.

A woman brushes past her side, apologizing as Galinda wobbles on her unbalanced feet. Their eyes meet briefly and for a moment Galinda thinks it's _her._ But it's not. It's never Arria.

Galinda picks up another mug from the table beside her, not quite caring whose drink it is she's effectively stolen. She needs to forget what's just happened. The amber liquid fills her quickly, her vision hazing ever so slightly in its wake.

"Glinda?" a voice gasps from behind and at first Galinda imagines it must just be her mind playing drunken tricks on her. No one here knows her true name! She turns, nearly knocking over the rest of the mugs atop the table as she tries to find the owner to the voice. It sounded familiar, the twang carrying a certain reverb she's only ever heard once before.

"Sweeeeet Oz," she breathes as her eyes finally take in the Goat before her. "Dr. Dillymon'?"

He quickly loops his hoof through the crook of her elbow, pulling Galinda away from the crowd. Once tucked alongside two of the larger tents for the celebration he moves Galinda to stand in front of him. "What are you doing here?" he demands, slitted eyes clearly wide with panic.

"Wha' am I…?" Galinda slurs. She shakes her head, her drink spilling as she motions drunkenly to Dr. Dillamond with her mug. "Wha are yooouuu doin' ere?"

"Has Morrible sent you? Are there more of you?" he asks, frantic, eyes darting out toward the celebration. He turns back to Galinda once he's satisfied he's not about to be ambushed. Galinda sways on her feet and the Goat tilts his head, scrutinizing. "Are you even truly drunk Miss Gllllinda?"

"Of courff I'm naawt!" Galinda exclaims wincing at how obviously horrid the lie sounds out loud. "Maybeee ah libble."

"Uh huh," Dr. Dillamond nods, though visibly relaxes once he realizes Morrible has not in fact sent her best student after him. There is no way Miss Glinda would have botched a mission so horribly by allowing herself to indulge in a party. Not the Glinda he knew anyway. So that begs the question, "then why _are_ you here?"

Galinda squints at the Goat as she says in as sober a voice as she can manage, "I thoughf you 'ere _dead_."

"Dead? Is that what Morrible has led you all to believe?" Dr. Dillamond asks then gives a loud huff that comes out from his nose as more of a whine. Galinda wants to giggle at the animal-like sound but Dr. Dillamond's expression grows serious and Galinda forces herself to focus. "What do you believe happened to me?"

"I dunno," Galinda replies. "Braains eafen?"

"Well, I'll tell you," he says, glancing over his broad shoulders before turning back to Galinda. "She had me forcibly removed from my position, that is what happened. I'd been researching a means to answering the question once and for all of what could possibly have led to these horrid creatures. If I could uncover the cause I could work to finding a solution. Simple science!" he exclaims before taking a calming breath and continuing. "But Morrible refused for a mere _Animal_ to discover the answer. She booted me out before I could finish my research. It doesn't matter now anyway, even given the resources here it's impossible to pinpoint the start of it all."

"Elfab-Eelp…" Galinda trails off, groaning at her inability to say the green girl's name. Her tongue feels heavy as she finally says, "Elphie… did."

The Goat's slanted pupils grow in the darkness. He leans closer to Galinda. "Wh-what did you say?"

"My frrriend, she knowwss." Galinda smiles. "She hafs books, so many boofs! Allll abouts it."

"Where? Are you serious Miss Glinda? Because if-"

"Ugh!" Galinda moans, interrupting Dr. Dillamond. "Its Gahhlinda. Galinda! Wif a _GUH_!"

"Yes," Dr. Dillamond nods, waving the topic away with flick of his hoof. "But where is your friend? Do you realize what this could mean? What she's uncovered! I must speak with her!"

Galinda rolls her eyes. Of course he wants to go have a _chat _with Elphaba. And she bets they'll get along famously too. They can compare silly notes from their equally silly lab books, discussing the in and outs of orb things and other such smart nonsense. No. Galinda will have nothing to do with this.

Elphaba is not going to be fraternizing with this useless Goat.

Not so that she can decide to stay here and live amongst the happy people, with their stupid weddings and sensible guard shifts.

"Glinda! Wait!" Dr. Dillamond shouts after her as Galinda makes her way back to the party in search of another drink. She's far too sober right now. It needs to be remedied.

* * *

><p>Elphaba is woken late in the night when Galinda finally stumbles inside their shack. The blonde reeks of alcohol and another scent Elphaba doesn't recognize, something distinctly musky that causes her to grip the blanket tighter over her chest while her stomach churns.<p>

"'Ello Elphie," Galinda drawls, dazed smile plastered to her lips as she plops down beside Elphaba on the straw bed and all but forces a half filled mug into the green girls chest. Elphaba shakes her head, pushing Galinda's hand and mug aside gently. "Ohhh come onnn! Jus' one sip…?"

"You're drunk." Elphaba states, taking in Galinda's tousled hair and disheveled dress. One sleeve is hanging off her shoulders, the buttons along her chest obviously undone. Elphaba feels her stomach do more then churn at the sight. Her entire body feels as though it's been thrown from off the Cloister roof. She feels… betrayed. "Have you," she begins to say, her voice catching mid sentence, not allowing her to speak further.

"Did I have _sssssex_, you mean?" Galinda purrs. She smirks, eyes hooded beneath her heavy lids. "Yes, I _did_. She and I fu-"

"Galinda!" Elphaba exclaims in a strangled whisper.

"Wha?" Galinda shrugs before dissolving into giggles as she lies her head down in Elphaba's lap. She stares through unfocused eyes up at a very much blushing Elphaba. "Aww, are you _green_ with ennnnvy?"

"No," Elphaba says, turning her face from Galinda's. She flinches when she feels the blonde's fingers brush against her heated cheekbones. She sucks air sharply between her teeth at the contact and Galinda lets her hand fall lazily to her side. The blonde wasn't expecting such an obvious reaction. Seeing Elphaba so on edge sobers her up a bit.

The two women are silent for a moment, Elphaba doing everything in her power to remain still and not look down at the disheveled blonde in her lap. All the while Galinda stares up at the green woman, eyes tracing the contour of the blushing girls face.

"I don't love him," Galinda tells her, voice suddenly clear… soft.

"I know," Elphaba whispers back, still not trusting herself to meet Galinda's gaze. Especially not now. Not with the soldier so vulnerable, so close. Not when her own emotions are so frazzled.

"But I…" Galinda begins to say, before sighing and lifting herself from Elphaba's lap. Her mind feels extraordinarily lucid as she tells her honestly, "I did sleep with someone tonight."

Elphaba keeps her eyes to the ground beside the bed, while her heart beats faster against her ribs. "W-why?"

"I don' know." Galinda tells her, picking at some of the straw pieces.

"Stop lying to me," Elphaba says quietly, adamantly as she finally looks up at Galinda.

"I'm sorry," Galinda sighs, looking up to meet Elphaba's gaze. She's surprised by the hurt she finds. Galinda feels a deep pang of guilt stab through her chest, stronger then ever before. She's responsible for hurting Elphaba. She's the one inflicting the pain this time. "I'm _so_ sorry, Elphie," she says again, this time truly meaning the words.

"Elphie?" Elphaba repeats, confused.

Galinda feels her cheeks warm at the slip. She doesn't even know when she made up the nickname but ever since it spilled from her drunken lips she hasn't quite been able to forget it. It fits, in an endearing way. "Blame the drink?" Galinda says with a small tentative smile and a shrug.

Elphaba won't admit it, but hearing Galinda use a nickname makes her feel as though the blonde truly does care. Instead Elphaba says, "But I thought my name was Arria."

Galinda closes her eyes and lets out an exasperated groan. She tries to reach for the mug, needing the alcohol to make it through _this_ conversation but Elphaba stops her, taking the drink before she can and downing the liquid in a few gulps. Galinda stares, shocked and concerned as Elphaba coughs a few times, sputtering even, before giving her head a shake and turning back to Galinda, lips curled in an obvious smirk.

"There," Elphaba says as she puts the mug down on the dirt covered floor. "No more distractions. Who is she?"

"Just a girl," Galinda says, trying to avoid truly telling Elphaba everything. Oz, she's never told anyone about Arria.

"Did you love her?" Elphaba asks.

Galinda thinks on the question for a moment. Did she love Arria? She cared for the girl, surely, but to go so far as to call what she felt love? Galinda lets out a sigh as she looks back up to Elphaba. "I don't think I ever let it get that far."

"Why not?"

_Why not?_ Galinda lets the question echo in her head. There are so many ways she could answer. Because her mother wouldn't allow it. Because she was too focused on training. Because she needed a distraction… but Galinda knows those are all excuses. And if Elphaba deserves anything, it's the truth. "I don't let anyone in that far. Not anymore."

"You're afraid of losing them," Elphaba whispers, finally understanding. "Loving someone doesn't make you weak, Galinda."

Galinda feels her throat closing up as tears threaten to spill from her eyes. "It does," she says, voice high with the beginnings of her emotions finally coming to a peak. She sniffles, standing from the bed suddenly. "You haven't," she begins to say, catching herself when she remembers Elphaba has indeed lost someone she loved once. And then she recalls just how carried away Elphaba was with the wedding earlier. With the idea of love… "How can you want that when you know how it'll end?"

"Love's worth it." Elphaba says, the alcohol finally buzzing in her head. She feels pleasantly relaxed as she smiles up at the now crying mess that is Galinda. "You can't be afraid of something so pure and I know you'll find it one day Galinda. You deserve to find it. Maybe not with Fiyero but with someone wonderful. I know it. I just wish you'd believe it too."

Galinda doesn't know what to say in response. No one has ever said anything so… well, so beautiful to her. She kneels down beside Elphaba, smiling shyly as she takes one of Elphaba's hands with her own. Elphaba's grin widens, if possible, even more at the touch. It warms Galinda, warms her to her very core to see her elicit such a reaction from Elphaba. It makes what she has to say next all that much harder. "Fiyero's all I have," Galinda whispers. "At least I'm marrying a friend."

Elphaba says nothing, merely nodding as she lets her hand slip from Galinda's. So even despite all she's told the soldier Galinda is still set on marrying a man she doesn't, nor does it seem ever will, love. Not the type of love she deserves anyway. But Elphaba has one more question she needs to ask. And she hopes Galinda is still in a truthful mood. "What is it you really want?"

Galinda thinks about it. Power, definitely. Freedom, a given. Happiness… she can only hope. Love… she can only dream. Her body feels tired though, as if she's run miles around the camp. She tries not to think of the other activity she participated in this evening. Especially about how the girl's scent still seems to cling to her very skin.

It was a mistake.

A drunken stupid mistake.

It hurt Elphaba.

Galinda never wants to hurt the woman ever again. Not someone who's seen behind her walls, seen who she truly is and yet still sits there, wanting to know more… wanting to help.

What is it Galinda really wants? She really wants to kiss Elphaba right now.

But instead of acting on those thoughts she settles with pretending the alcohol has dulled her senses again, giggling as she tells Elphaba, "I wan' _magic_."

And then Galinda crumbles onto the straw bed below, mouth hanging open with eyes closed, passed out. Elphaba lets out a sigh. She'd really hoped Galinda would have answered truthfully instead feigning to pass out. Yet when she prods the soldier, only to find a line of drool escaping from Galinda's mouth, Elphaba thinks perhaps the blonde's evasive plot got the better of her. She won't be waking anytime soon.

Feeling tired as well, Elphaba moves Galinda from off her legs, settling the girl down in her bed. She pulls the thin blanket over the blonde's shoulders, pausing as she stares at her slumbering face._ Beautiful_, she thinks. _She deserves someone beautiful._

Elphaba leaves Galinda's side, blowing the lamp out as she makes her way to the blonde's unused bed.

Elphaba's asleep before her head even hits the pillow.

She doesn't even get the chance to notice her research bag is missing.


	10. A Friend

**Chapter 10**

_A Friend_

"_Fuck_," Galinda mutters as she wakes. Not because her head is pounding in the aftermath of her drinking spree from the night previous. Oh no, she can easily ignore that.

At the moment she's far more concerned about why she's woken to find her hands bound behind her back.

She knew she shouldn't have ignored her instincts!

She lets out a groan as she sits up along the floor. Beside her Elphaba lies sleeping, hands also tied but resting just in front of her body instead. Galinda is relieved that Elphaba is at least with her. She doesn't know what she would have done if she'd woken up alone.

Aside from murder the first person who decides to walk in through the door but that was already a given.

As her eyes take in Elphaba's body her stomach drops. The green girl's dress is unbuttoned in the front partway down her chest. Nothing is showing but Galinda knows Elphaba never leaves her clothes unbuttoned. Someone has _touched_ Elphaba.

Galinda clenches her fists, her jaw tightening as she silently seethes, fury blinding her. She doesn't care what they could have done to her but if they so much as hurt Elphie she cannot be held accountable for the rash actions that will soon follow. She tries tugging on the ropes behind her back, finding the knots unyielding. Her legs are tied as well, the end of the rope wrapped about a wooden support in the small room. She notices the other rope is similarly tied about Elphaba's bare ankles.

Galinda tries not to let the rage overwhelm her again. She cannot get them free if all she can think about is slitting someone's throat. She quickly takes in her surroundings while trying to pry a hand from her bonds. The room is small, empty and dark save for the little amount of dawn light streaming in through the sole window. Galinda knows the Scrow haven't taken them from camp; she can still see some wildflowers tied to the top of the flag post through the dirty glass.

The rope rubs against her wrists, skin burning from the friction. Galinda lets out a loud groan, wincing when she notices the sound has woken Elphaba.

The green girl rolls from her back onto her side, still drowsy as her eyes blink open.

"Elphie," Galinda whispers, scooting closer. "Are you okay?"

"Mmm hmm," Elphaba mumbles, nodding. She doesn't know why Galinda is asking her such an absurd question. Of course she's all right. She's never slept better in her entire life. Not one night terror played in her dreams. But as she stretches Elphaba suddenly becomes alert. Her eyes dart to her tied hands, then down to her bound legs.

Galinda watches Elphaba's expression contort with fear. She shifts ever closer and asks, "Are you sure you're okay? You don't… hurt, anywhere, do you?"

Elphaba is taken by surprise by the concern coating Galinda's words, so much that she almost forgets she's lying tied up in a strange room. She sits up, feeling safer now that Galinda is near. She also doesn't feel any different than the night before. Except for maybe the splitting throb along her temple. It's the same feeling she would always get after waking up from one of Frexspar's procedures. She sighs thinking perhaps there was something more in their liquor than just strong alcohol. It would explain their current predicament. When Elphaba looks back over to Galinda to find two very worried blue eyes staring back at her Elphaba realizes she hasn't answered Galinda's concern. "I'm fine," she replies quietly, trying to muster a smile to her lips. "My side doesn't even hurt as much."

Galinda lets out a long breath, relieved. "I know this looks bad," she tells her, voice as soothing as she can possibly make it. "But don't panic. We're in a bit of a… uh, _situation_ currently, but I am working on getting us out, all right?"

"Do I look like I'm still panicking?" Elphaba asks, quirking an eyebrow at Galinda. "I think I'm getting used to this now actually. Perhaps tomorrow we'll wake up surrounded by Quadlings wanting to enslave us in their ruby mines. "

"This isn't funny," Galinda mutters. She bites her bottom lip as she wriggles within her bonds. "Do you remember seeing anyone last night? Anyone acting strange around you?"

"Aside from you? No."

Galinda stops fidgeting, eyeing Elphaba curiously. "Was that sarcasm? This isn't exactly the _best_ time to be practicing your newfound cynicism."

Elphaba massages the side of her head. "I think we were drugged."

"We weren't drugged. You just can't hold your liquor very well," Galinda groans, still struggling to free her hands. She glances down to Elphaba's wrists. A grin appears on her face. If Elphaba can untie her hands, then they'll be as good as free. "Come here, try undoing my knots."

Elphaba slides over, inspecting the thick ropes holding Galinda's wrists together. She doesn't even see where the end could be. "These are incredibly intricate."

"Just fiddle with them. I can wiggle my right a bit."

Elphaba tugs on the rope and Galinda sways against the weight. Elphaba leans over, hoping to find a place to begin undoing the mess of rope but grows still when she realizes her dress is hanging loosely from her neck…the first couple buttons undone. "Galinda?" she asks, hesitant.

"Elphie, it's all right." Galinda tells her softly. "You're doing great."

Elphaba quickly brings her shaking hands to her chest, buttoning her dress up once more. "D-did you undo my dress?"

Galinda tenses then turns to look at Elphaba. "No, I-"

"I did," a voice says quietly from the doorway. Both girls turn quickly at the sound. Elphaba's fingers clutch the front of her dress while Galinda's clench in rage.

"_I'll kill you_." Galinda growls, trying to make out the shadowed figure standing in the light.

"I'm sorry Miss Glinda, it was an accident," Dr. Dillamond says as he enters the room, holding in his arms their clean clothing and boots. "I was hoping I could pick you both up and sneak you from here last night but they brought you in here before I could. I'm afraid without fingers it was much harder to try and lift you then it looked. I got snagged a few times. Hence the broken buttons," he explains as he places the pile of clothes down on the floor next to Galinda's feet. She notices her dagger lying on top.

Galinda is about to lunge for the weapon when Dillamond picks it up between his hooves and holds it out to the blonde.

"Quickly now," he urges.

Galinda arches her shoulder to grab the knife, swiping it quickly from Dr. Dillamond. She flicks the blade around in her fingers and begins cutting through the bonds on her wrists. As she does, she looks back up to Dillamond, eyes questioning. "Why are you helping us?"

Dr. Dillamond grins, bending next to Elphaba and using his teeth to easily snap the ropes around her ankles. He spits it to the ground before saying, "I've read your research."

Elphaba gasps.

"I know, it was wrong of me to take but Miss Glinda said you'd discovered the cause and I just had to see for myself!" Dillamond exclaims in a hushed tone. He looks over at Elphaba, absolute respect and admiration shining in his eyes. "You're brilliant," he tells her earnestly. "What you've discovered is incredible! I can't stand idly by claiming to be an Animal of science as you're handed off to the highest bidder. You need to leave here before the Gale Force can arrest you. I doubt the Wizard is in control of his men any longer. You need to bring this to him!"

"I did," Elphaba tells him while Galinda quickly works to cut her green hands free. "That's why we're on the run."

Dr. Dillamond lets out a frustrated snort, helping Elphaba to her feet. "Well, you need to get this seen somehow then."

"We're trying," Galinda says, tossing Elphaba her clothes. "You said the Gale Force are on their way? How long do we have?"

"Not long," Dillamond says, looking out the window. A few men from Harvler's team pass, yawning in the morning light. Dillamond glares at their retreating backs. "_They've_ known all along whom you truly are. I just found out myself late last night."

"Why didn't they just tie us up then?" Elphaba asks. "Why let us participate in their celebration?

"I don't know. I believe it was at your expense. They had a great laugh about it last night as they brought you here," Dillamond explains then turns to Galinda. "Why didn't you tell me you were wanted? I could have helped."

Galinda thinks back to last night. To how she treated her one-time professor. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "I didn't… I just… I'm just sorry for, everything."

Dr. Dillamond doesn't quite know why his least favorite pupil is apologizing to him but he shrugs, accepting it nonetheless. Who is he to try and understand the inner workings of the human female mind? From what he's heard, it's far more difficult territory to tread upon than even the overrun, Undead-filled pastures of Munchkinland.

"It's all right, Miss Glinda," he says, patting the girl awkwardly upon her shoulder.

"Galinda," she corrects him halfheartedly.

"Yes, Glinda." Dillamond nods. "I have your weapons, just outside in the hay cart," he tells them. "Finish dressing and I'll sneak you from camp."

"Can we trust him?" Elphaba asks, once Dillamond closes the flap to the curtain door behind him.

Galinda grins. "Absolutely."

* * *

><p>They quickly dress and dive into the hay bale atop the cart. Galinda manages to slip her quiver over her shoulders before Dillamond packs more hay, obscuring the girls from view. The cart squeaks loudly as Dillamond pushes it slowly down the worn path through the center of the Scrow. Galinda feels they might as well paint a target on the side for all the subtly their escape is affording them. She buries herself deeper into the hay halting only once she realizes the blockage below her isn't the cart bottom but in fact a very warm body.<p>

Elphaba tries to concentrate on being as still as possible when Galinda settles around her. She desperately tries not to think about how warm, how wonderful the blonde feels pressed against her in the cramped cart. She swears for a fleeting moment last night Galinda was about to kiss her. The blonde's blue eyes kept flicking down to Elphaba's lips, making Elphaba's stomach squirm every time she did so. Elphaba feels the same sensation in her stomach now just remembering those moments. Galinda kissing her…_Her_. Green, ugly, boring Elphaba? It's impossible. But she also knows Galinda was drunk… and drunk people do ridiculous things they always regret the next day. She doesn't know what would have hurt more, Galinda kissing her and brushing her aside come morning or Galinda kissing her and being repulsed an instant later.

Neither would have ever happened though, she realizes.

Galinda, at least sober Galinda anyway, would never want to kiss her.

_And even if she did it's not like I know what I'm doing_, Elphaba groans to herself.

Hopeless. She'll always be hopeless.

She closes her eyes tightly, repeating like a mantra in her head, _Galinda deserves someone wonderful. She deserves someone better than you._

Galinda holds up no better being so close to the green girl. Elphaba does something to her, something so unbelievably incredible that it scares her. She's never been so protective of anyone. So completely concerned for another's well-being. So enthralled. So attracted. And after a few days no less! Galinda thinks she must be going crazy. There is no other explanation for why she feels as she does. Why she wants to somehow be _closer_ to Elphaba even though she's practically already lying on top of her. Oz, even something as simple as breathing becomes difficult when she's this close to her.

Through the hay she notices Elphaba's eyes are screwed shut, her brow furrowed.

Galinda has to stop herself from reaching up and running a finger over the green girl's temple in an attempt to relax her sharp yet handsome features. She hates seeing Elphaba in pain, even if the pain is from within her own mind. She wishes she could hear the girl's thoughts. She imagines they must never stop. Elphaba always seems to be thinking about something, lost in her own world.

Galinda sighs, pressing her cheek back against Elphaba's forearm. Elphaba's been alone for a better part of her life. She can understand why the girl would be inclined to retreat into her mind so much after years of solitude. But Galinda wants that to change. Elphaba isn't alone anymore, and she wants so much for her to get the happiness she deserves.

Voices approach and both girls tense. They listen, not daring to breathe as Dillamond explains calmly that he's been given hay duty this morning. The guards grunt something in response and Elphaba nearly gasps when a rifle is poked inside, the tip mere inches from touching her face.

It's pulled out a moment later, followed by the sound of tapping against the side of the cart's wood panels.

"Let him through!" they hear shouted.

The cart is in motion once more, both girls breathing out a thankful sigh.

And yet not a moment later another guard calls, "Did Ansfield kill the girl yet? He better get to it before the freak wakes up!"

Elphaba feels her heart skipping a beat as a chill settles in her bones. She knows the guard means Galinda... that if it weren't for Dillamond a certain Ansfield would have killed the woman holding her so tightly that Elphaba is afraid Galinda will suffocate her soon. Galinda hugs Elphaba closer, hoping to ease the green woman's obvious tension. They are safe now.

"It's okay, Elphie," she whispers. "We're okay."

Dillamond stops the cart after a few minutes once he feels they're a safe distance from the camp. He tosses the hay off, digging the girls out. Galinda stands first, jumping down from the cart before helping Elphaba out.

"It's a day's journey or so from here to the Cloister of Saint Glinda," he says, hurriedly handing Elphaba their survival pack once she resettles her research bag. "I have friends there who can help you into the City."

"We've just escaped from the City," Galinda tells him as she brushes the straw out from her quiver. "We're headed west for help."

"Prince Fiyero?" Dillamond asks, and Galinda is surprised he knows. He grins at her stunned expression and hands her the bow. "I may have been a, how did you always put it? Ah, yes, a dense old Goat, but I did know who you kept as friends."

"I am sorry professor," Galinda says.

"No need," Dillamond chuckles. "Now go. The Vinkus River is about a few days' walk directly west of here. You best get going. And _please_ stay safe."

"We will," Galinda tells him, giving a nod of thanks as she nudges Elphaba to follow her down through the forest.

Elphaba doesn't though, instead stepping up to Dillamond. She takes his hooved hand within her own, shaking his arm gently as she tells him, "Thank you. Truly, thank you."

"Of course, now _go_," he insists, nodding toward where Galinda watches them a few feet away. Elphaba gives him a smile before jogging over to the blonde. They begin walking, Elphaba turning to wave back at Dillamond. He raises his arm, waving as well. "Be sa-arrrg!" Dillamond doubles over, an arrow punctured straight through his chest.

Galinda grabs Elphaba by the hand and tugs hard as she begins to run further into the thick trees. Elphaba can't tear her eyes from the Goat as a shot rings out into the forest, the bullet implanting itself into Dillamond's head. His body jerks forward and collapses to the ground, dead.

Galinda glances over her shoulder, surprised to find the shooter not far behind Dillamond's fallen body. She makes a sharp turn, pulling Elphaba alongside her as she ducks them both behind a large tree. "Get down," she whispers to Elphaba quickly and they crouch to the moist ground. There must be at least two, Galinda thinks. An archer and a separate rifleman. She peeks out from behind the tree to see the rifleman now prodding Dillamond's body with his gun. Galinda pulls an arrow from her quiver, stringing it quickly and taking aim. She lets it fly, the point tearing right through the man's neck.

His body joins Dillamond's shortly after. Galinda is about to string another when she hears the telltale sound of an arrow piercing through the air. One barely misses her by a hair as it slams into the bark of the tree beside her head. Galinda ducks down back next to Elphaba.

"Galinda?" Elphaba asks, eyes wide, silently asking for instruction.

"Stay put," Galinda tells her softly, squeezing Elphaba's shoulder as she stands to her feet once more. She sprints out from behind the tree, barely ahead of the arrow that rips through the air behind her. Galinda presses her back against the next tree, breathing hard. The archer has the upper hand. He knows her position.

"Give up!" A voice, male, shouts from a distance.

Galinda smirks. He's just given away his one advantage. She gets down to her knees slowly, pulling her quiver from around her shoulders and laying it along with her bow to the ground. She crawls along the forest floor, staying hidden beneath the overgrown shrubs.

"You're surrounded!" the man shouts again.

Galinda rolls her eyes as she withdraws her dagger. She peeks out from the bush she's snuck into. The man is just a few yards off, eyes focused on the tree she was once ducked behind. Galinda picks up a small stick from the ground and throws it into a bush a few paces opposite where she hides. The guard's head snaps in the direction of the rustling sound. He steps out from his position, arrow ready to fire.

As he makes his way slowly to the bush Galinda stands to her feet, dagger already in hand. He's too far for her to throw it but Galinda doesn't want to anyway. This man could have been the one to tie up Elphaba. He deserves something far more… personal.

Galinda silently moves in position behind the guard. She sneaks up, jumping onto his back, her legs pinning his arms to his sides. He stumbles forward under her weight, letting out a string of curses. Galinda slits his throat with her blade before he can yell any more.

She pushes off him just as he falls into the bush below.

Behind her she can hear the faint sounds of the others coming to their fallen comrades' aid. Galinda quickly takes some of the arrows from his quiver before sprinting back over to her own discarded weapons.

Elphaba leans out from the tree when she hears Galinda's light steps. She runs over to the blonde just as Galinda picks her bow and quiver from the ground. "Are you okay?" she asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Galinda nods, giving Elphaba a smile as she shows her the bloodied blade. Elphaba makes a face, looking away as Galinda wipes the blood on the ground before pocketing her knife. "Come on," she says, patting Elphaba's arm before running further into the forest.

Elphaba takes one last look behind her to Dillamond before taking off after Galinda.

* * *

><p>They don't run for long. Elphaba tires after only a few minutes. Galinda knows she can't yell at the girl like her trainers always used to do to her. She can't push Elphaba. Neither does she want to. She merely slows their pace down to a walk and waits for Elphaba to catch up to her side before she asks if the green girl is all right.<p>

Elphaba nods, breathless.

They walk in silence for a long while; the only sounds come from the crunch of the dead leaves beneath their feet and the birds chirping overhead. Elphaba thinks of Dillamond. Of yet another soul who has died so she could live. She feels her bottom lip quiver, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She wipes at them furiously before they can fall to her cheeks. She doesn't understand why so many must be hurt in their path.

She's sure Yackle is dead too.

All because one man wants her for his own brand of torture! More experiments. It seems as though nothing and _no one_ will stand in his way.

She thinks she should have never left the Consulate.

At least there she only had to endure one man's insanity.

She can't imagine how many scientists the Wizard has who will act the same.

Her skin truly is a curse.

Galinda has better sense than to question the sudden appearance of tears in Elphaba's eyes. It's obvious that Dillamond's death is hitting her hard. Galinda doesn't even know what she could say to offer Elphaba solace. Instead she walks a bit closer to the green girl hoping that what she lacks in words, she can make up for in presence.

She is still here.

She is still fighting for her.

She won't leave her.

To say Elphaba is surprised when she feels Galinda's fingers twine with her own is an understatement. She's absolutely floored. She stares, stunned at Galinda even as her heart beats rapidly in her chest. But Galinda keeps her eyes forward, merely giving Elphaba's hand a squeeze in response.

And Elphaba cries new tears.

She may not be what Galinda wants and she is definitely not the woman she deserves… but for this moment Elphaba pretends as if she is.

That night, in an abandoned farmer's field of dying corn Galinda takes the first watch. Elphaba curls up along the fence, using her bag as a pillow. It doesn't take long for her to succumb to sleep. And once Galinda's sure she's in a deep slumber she watches Elphaba, candidly. Watches as she breathes. As her brow knits and later as a smile tugs at her lips, remnants of her dreams. Galinda doesn't want to wake her.

A chill rolls through the night, unusual for this part of Oz so early in the summer. Galinda sees Elphaba curl further into herself. A pang of distress shoots through her heart when she notices Elphaba shivering. So Galinda pulls their only blanket from out of the survival pack and lays it gently over the trembling girl. Elphaba snuggles into the fabric, body relaxing and Galinda stays awake, all through the night, not wanting to disturb Elphaba from the peace she so rightfully deserves.

* * *

><p>The next morning Elphaba wakes to find Galinda standing just a few yards off in the field. The blonde is staring into the distance, hugging her arms over her chest. Elphaba tosses the blanket off her shoulders, surprised by the chill hanging in the air. She grabs the blanket and walks over to Galinda. Just because she's currently mad at the blonde doesn't mean she's just going to let her stand in the cold.<p>

"Why didn't you wake me?" she asks, upset with the soldier for having allowed her to sleep though the night.

Galinda is pulled from her thoughts as she looks over her shoulder to Elphaba. It's strange how the green girl always seems to pull her from her thoughts when she's about to get lost in them. Galinda welcomes the distraction, though. Her thoughts were getting far too serious. And far too many revolved around the green woman. Far too many bringing her true feelings to the surface…

But right now Galinda just wants to smile at Elphaba. That is until she sees the disagreeable expression on the girls green face. Galinda brushes Elphaba's earlier question off with a small shrug as she turns back to watch the rising sun. "I've stayed up far longer before, in worse conditions."

Elphaba doesn't buy the excuse though. "I'm not useless," she tells Galinda hotly. "I could have done that _simple_ task."

Galinda feels herself bristling at Elphaba's tone. But she can't tell her the real reason why she let her sleep. Instead Galinda narrows her eyes at Elphaba as she says bitterly, "As simple as casting a spell against a horde of Undead about to _kill_ us would have been?"

Elphaba glares at Galinda, saying nothing before throwing the blanket into Galinda's chest. "Here, you _clearly_ need this more than I," she mutters before stalking back toward the fence.

Galinda lets out a groan. She doesn't know why she was so harsh with Elphaba. The green girl has every reason to be upset with her. Just because she can't accept her own feelings doesn't mean she has to take out her frustration on Elphaba. Galinda sighs, folding the blanket back up as she jogs over to where Elphaba is irritably readjusting her bag across her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Elphie," Galinda tells her softly. Elphaba stops fussing to look up at Galinda, though her expression is anything but accepting. She wants to know why. Galinda takes a step closer, eyes suddenly needing to be anywhere but on Elphaba. "I was out of line. I didn't mean it. I don't know why I get so… so angry sometimes."

"I know why," Elphaba says, tone still sour. "It's _simple._ You're living a lie."

Galinda lets out frustrated cry as she glares up at Elphaba. So much for her apology, she thinks. "And how would you have me live otherwise?"

"I don't know!" Elphaba exclaims. "I just know you're not happy being who you are."

Galinda lets out a laugh. "Of course I'm not happy! I'm on the run from the law with a green recluse!"

Elphaba winces, brown eyes narrowing dangerously at Galinda. "That didn't seem to bother you the other night," she snarls.

Galinda feels her cheeks heating, her heart pounding against her chest. She steps up to Elphaba, glaring right back into the girl's furious brown eyes. "People say _stupid_ things when they're drunk. Last night _included_. Forget it."

"No," Elphaba counters, the air around them charging with her unchecked emotions. "You were more yourself last night then you've probably _ever_ been. I'll never forget it."

"_Fine_," Galinda snaps, pulling away and turning and collect her things.

But Elphaba is not done yet. "What is it you want, Galinda?" she asks. "If all of this had never happened, if Oz could be as it once was… if you'd never met me, what would you have wanted?"

Galinda stares at Elphaba, watching as the green girls once glowering expression softens, the magic disappearing along with it. Galinda's never felt Elphaba's powers come out like they just did. She's also not entirely sure it was magic… it could have just been _them_. She feels the words she wants to say forming along her tongue. It would be so easy to tell Elphaba what she wants. What she _truly_ wants, especially now that she knows how she feels about the woman. She cares. She cares so much it hurts.

But then Galinda remembers what Elphaba asked. What would she have wanted had she never met Elphaba?

Easy. To have someone just like her. Oz, she just wants her, period.

But Galinda shakes her head, and tells Elphaba, "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me," Elphaba replies softly. "I care about you, Galinda. Whether you care for me or not is irrelevant. You've done so much for me that I can't help but want to see you happy. To see you be _you_."

"Why?" Galinda barely manages to ask past the lump that's formed in her throat at Elphaba's confession. "I'm not… I'm not worth being cared for. Oz, I don't even think I have a soul left in me most of the time."

"Don't say that," Elphaba says, shaking her head. "How can you believe that?"

"Because it died a long time ago," Galinda confesses quietly. She wishes she could just tell Elphaba what she feels. That the closest she's felt to living since… well, since _always,_ is now, with her. But what kind of person would she be if she allowed Elphaba in? No, Elphaba deserves someone with a whole soul. Not the shabby, barely recognizable one stuck under her skin. She looks back up to Elphaba, tired, so tired all of the sudden.

"You know what, Elphaba? I can't change what's happened to me and I'm just so… so _exhausted_. What's the point anymore? What's the point of all of this?"

"You have a purpose. You're here to save lives." Elphaba tells her earnestly. "Oz knows you've saved mine enough times already."

Galinda shakes her head. "I never wanted to be _this_," Galinda says, picking at the strap to her quiver. "I never wanted to go to Academy. I only did it because I knew it's what my father would have wanted. He died saving me. So I could _live_. And how do I repay him? I only stayed at Kellswater because I thought I could have learned magic. That's all I've ever wanted really. I know it sounds frivolous and petty but that's it. That's who I was," Galinda sighs, feeling so very different from that girl now. She looks up into Elphaba's eyes. "Now I'm not even sure why I ever did. Magic can't save us. The Undead can't be stopped. There's no cure. What's the _point_?"

"To live despite all that," Elphaba whispers. "To just be."

Galinda stares at her for a moment, before letting a small smile cross her lips. "And what is it _you_ want most in this world, Elphie?"

Elphaba smiles down at Galinda. "I've already found what I wanted. I've only ever wanted a friend."

Galinda feels her cheeks warm as she laughs because, "I make quite a shit friend."

"I don't care," Elphaba says, chuckling as well. "Shit or not at least you're here."

"I will try to be a better friend, Elphie," Galinda tells her as she packs the blanket back into the survival pack. She can do this, Galinda thinks. She can be Elphaba's friend. She can get over this silly crush.

Elphaba blushes, hearing Galinda call her by that name again. Galinda looks back up, noticing Elphaba's darkened cheeks and downcast eyes. "You don't like it when I call you that, do you?" Galinda asks, feeling a bit disappointed. She rather liked the nickname.

"Oh no, I do," Elphaba assures her quickly, still embarrassed by her flushed face. She smiles shyly at Galinda. "It's nice. I've never had one before. Do I need to think of one for you as well?"

Galinda laughs as she hands Elphaba the pack and they begin walking once again. "That's not quite how friendships work. You can't force a nickname."

"Galinny?" Elphaba tries out the name.

Galinda scrunches her nose, shaking her head. "Pass."

"How about just Linny?" Elphaba suggests.

"Just because you dropped some letters doesn't make it any better."

"You're right, you're not really the 'ie' ending type."

"I'm not any type. I am just Galinda."

"Glin?"

"You're missing a crucial vowel in there."

"You're making this difficult."

"_You're _making this a bigger deal than it need be."

"I should just call you insufferable."

"Too long."

"Oh, I know the perfect one. Bitch."

"Heard too often but points for the sarcasm. I really_ am_ rubbing off on you, huh?"

"I give up! Fine, just Galinda."

"Aww, don't worry, Elphie. I'm still your friend despite your lacking skills in manifesting cute nicknames."

"In time, I'll think of one."

"Think any harder and you might attract some Undead with that prime brain of yours."

"Is this normal? Do all friends talk to each other like this?"

"Yes, actually."

"People are… very strange."


	11. A Home With Me

**Chapter 11 **

_A Home With Me_

A day later Galinda sits beside Elphaba on an old log buried deep in the forest, somewhere just east of the Vinkus River. They share a small loaf of bread Elphaba had stashed in their survival pack. The sun is high, but the temperature is cool beneath the thick layer of foliage above. Galinda watches as a breeze blows through the trees, sending a small collection of leaves floating down around them. It's quiet save for the sounds of the wind.

Tranquil almost, but not alarmingly so.

It reminds Galinda of afternoons spent near the stream behind her family's cottage in Mottica with her Ama. She'd splash around in the shallow water for hours, pretending to be on some grand adventure. A rescue usually. Princesses always needed to be saved by other princesses. Galinda smiles thinking of the memory. Even as a girl she already knew what she wanted.

Poor Fiyero never stood a chance, she thinks. Princes were only ever useful for leading her to Princesses. She sighs, thinking of the man she is to marry soon. It's not that she doesn't care for Fiyero. She does, more than she will ever even admit. He is the only friend she's ever had that didn't befriend her in a feeble attempt to better his own social standing (what little of it there was). If anything his status was diminished by her company. But he seemed not to care, not in the slightest that he was pursuing a poor nobody. Despite her shortcomings he was always there when she needed someone most. And just like with Arria, she never let him see any further than just below the surface. Barely skimming the waters. She never allowed them deeper.

Theirs was a casual friendship, built on respect surely, but also built on a shared familiarity. They helped each other remain sane during those long hours spent out in Morrible's training trials. During meals he was the only one to brave sitting beside her without fear of being verbally torn in two.

He knew how to make her laugh, and which style of bow she preferred for the range.

He had no clue what she feared, what she truly wanted.

He will always be the charming, patient, kind-hearted man she met at the start of their time at Academy. Even as he proposed he was all soft smiles and gracious words.

She still can't believe he asked her, of all people. _Her._

How many times has she insulted him? Thrown a complete fit over nothing and then raged at him for merely breathing?_ Struck_ him for being an insufferable know-it-all, even? And yet she always found him waiting outside her door the very next day, ready to apologize first. He never gave up on their friendship. Galinda appreciated him for that.

But when it came to their affair she resented who she came to be because of it. Or, more accurately, who she _pretended _to be… just so that he would have the version of her he'd always wanted all along.

The perfect girlfriend. Someone to match his strength of will, challenge his wit, slight his vanity and most important of all, someone who _wanted_ him. She played her part well.

Galinda feels horrible for stringing him along. Never once did she stop to think how much she could be hurting him by pretending to love him as she did. She was only ever looking out for herself.

It was always what was best for Galinda.

Never a thought was spared for those around her.

To those that cared for her…

Not until Elphaba.

She spent so long lying to Fiyero that she never once wondered if the man was actually in love with her as much as she pretended to be with him. He certainly seemed to be in love whenever they slept together. Sweet Oz, his need to cuddle afterward was so unbearable! But he was always so flirty with other girls, even despite their secret relationship.

Galinda couldn't image flirting with anyone if Elphaba were hers.

Her eyes widen as _that_ forbidden thought crosses her mind.

She shakes her head, focusing on why she's here on this log.

This isn't just any ordinary break they're taking. Galinda stopped here purposefully. She noticed Elphaba itching at her side again; the green girl is in obvious need of some fresh bandages. Galinda just doesn't know how to approach the subject without causing Elphaba to grow nervous and fidgety. She saw how the green girl was barely able to compose herself with the doctor. She still can't believe she allowed him to even glance at the wound let alone stitch her skin up.

Elphaba's skin is beautiful, even with the scars, Galinda thinks.

Now how to say this to Elphaba without freaking the girl out?

Galinda groans inwardly. There is no easy way to ask Elphaba to lift her shirt so she can re-bandage her stomach.

She tries not thinking about the green skin in any other way then medically. She's just here to check on a wound. This is just another typical survival class. Elphaba is just another student.

She can do this.

She can keep pretending.

Elphaba passes Galinda their water canteen and Galinda thanks her with a nod, taking a sip before handing it back to Elphaba for safekeeping.

"Shall we move on?" Elphaba asks as she straps the small bottle back along the edge to the survival pack.

_"I think we shou' reban'age your-side_!" Galinda says all at once. She curses the blush that spreads quickly to her cheeks.

"I didn't quite catch that," Elphaba says, amused by Galinda's sudden embarrassment. What could Galinda be possibly nervous about?

Galinda looks up at Elphaba then down to the girl's side. She points and tells her, "Your side. We should change the bandages."

Elphaba's shoulders tense, her eyes flicking between Galinda's. "No, it-it's ok. I'm fine."

"Elphie," Galinda sighs, having anticipated this reaction. "It's all right. You don't have to be scared, it's just _me_."

"Exactly," Elphaba tells her as she shoots up to her feet. She smoothers down her blouse and reaches to collect their bags. Galinda stops her though, wrapping her fingers gently around Elphaba's wrist. Elphaba meets Galinda's soft eyes, allowing the blonde to guide her back down to the log. She tears her eyes away, down to Galinda's hand that has slipped to cover hers. Elphaba closes her eyes at the touch.

Galinda is her friend.

She only wants to help.

She trusts her...

"Okay," Elphaba says softly with a slight nod of her head. "Okay, but if-"

Galinda silences her with a small squeeze of reassurance to Elphaba's hand. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. _Nothing_."

Elphaba keeps her eyes on Galinda, concentrating on the simple act of breathing as the blonde pulls Elphaba's blouse out from her skirt. A warm smile tugs at the corner of Galinda's mouth, her eyes never leaving Elphaba's as she raises the shirt up. Her knuckles brush against the bandage, Elphaba's stomach flinching at the touch. When Galinda no longer feels the rough material of the wraps but instead the smooth skin of Elphaba's side she stops.

"Could you hold this here for me?" Galinda asks.

Elphaba nods, pulse racing as she takes her shirt and continues holding it just below her ribs. Galinda gives her a smile before digging into the survival pack, pulling out some fresh dressings and a small jar of ointment. She rests both in her lap before starting to unwrap the old dressing from Elphaba's stomach. Elphaba takes a deep breath and focuses her attention to the sky. She really doesn't want to see Galinda's reaction once the wraps are undone.

Once her scarred skin is plainly on display.

But as the last of the bloodied bandages leaves her skin and the cool air tickles her exposed stomach, Elphaba doesn't hear the gasp she was expecting from Galinda. She hears nothing at all.

Elphaba looks down, surprised to find Galinda about to smoother some ointment over her stitches, the blonde's brow furrowed in concentration. She wants to laugh. Oz, she feels like she could cry even! The ointment is cold and as Galinda gently spreads it over the healing wound Elphaba can't help as her body twitches in reaction. Nor the way a fluttering, almost tingling sensation seems to float down and settle in her stomach.

"Are you okay?" Galinda asks suddenly, eyes flicking up to meet Elphaba's, the worry in them clear as the glass of the jar in her hand. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Elphaba shakes her head, wobbly smile on her lips. "No," she says. "Thank you, for doing this."

Galinda gives Elphaba a full smile as she leans into the green woman, wrapping the clean bandages behind her back before settling back on the log once again. Elphaba swears her heart just skipped a beat. Or two. Perhaps three. Each time Galinda leans forward, another beat is missed. That is until Galinda stills, the bandage still clutched in one hand as the fingers of her other trace over a deep scar just above Elphaba's hip.

Galinda feels like she had been doing great at keeping her feelings at bay. She's been suppressing the urge to just _hug_ Elphaba since the last of the bandages were unwrapped. But this one, this one _horrible_ scar has her very heart breaking. Galinda's seen what happens when wounds aren't properly taken care of. They take longer to heal leaving an ugly mark behind. This wasn't a simple cut. This was deep. Invasive. This _hurt_. And afterward… afterward, this was ignored. The scar is raised higher than all the others, jagged and discolored.

This was never cared for.

Galinda clenches her teeth. _This shouldn't be here in the first place_.

"How could you have let him treat you this way for so long?" Galinda whispers, voice pained. She looks up at Elphaba, eyes wet with unshed tears. "_How_?"

Elphaba looks away. "I knew it was for the better of Oz," she explains softly. "If my one moment of pain could lead to the freedom for all, then I was willing to endure it. Sometimes I thought I even deserved it."

"No," Galinda says, with an adamant shake of her head. "_No one_ deserves to be treated like that. Especially not someone like you. You're such a good person, Elphie. Oz, I swear sometimes I think your heart is the purest thing left in this world."

Elphaba feels a rush of warmth course through her veins, the heat settling deep in her gut. She blushes as she tells Galinda, "I don't understand how you can think your soul is dead after saying something like that."

Galinda chuckles, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She brushes Elphaba's blouse back down. "I'm not this way with anyone else," she admits. "Academy tended to weed out the weak."

Elphaba tucks her blouse back into her skirt as she looks down to Galinda. "From everything you've told me of Academy it sounds like a horrible place."

Galinda shrugs, helping Elphaba up from the log. "I assure you, it was far better than being a human guinea pig. If I ever meet your bastard father I'm so going to run my dagger straight through his heart."

"Don't," Elphaba says as she slips her research bag over her shoulders, the survival pack next. "I don't want anymore bloodshed because of me and besides, if I hadn't let him keep doing his experiments then I never would have discovered the truth about the Undead's origins. Sure, it would have been wonderful to not have been a human guinea pig, but it's because I chose to stay with him that I find myself here now. I would do it over in a heartbeat if it meant I'd still get to meet you."

Galinda doesn't know what to say to that. Does Elphaba feel the same as she does? It certainly seems that way. Friends don't exactly confess they'd be willing to suffer through pure agony just to get the chance to come across you again. But than again this is Elphaba. Everything she does is atypical, why would being her friend be any different? So Galinda gives Elphaba a smile as they begin walking.

"I still think you deserved to be treated better," she says. A horrible thought suddenly plants itself into her mind and she quickly asks, "I hope you're not thinking of going _back_ to him when this is all over. You're not, right?"

"I don't want to," Elphaba sighs, looking to the ground. "But he's still my father Galinda, all I have left anymore. I _can't_ change that, no matter how I despise him so. Where else could I go...?"

"Not back to him," Galinda tells her with conviction. "He's not all you have anymore."

She'll be damned it she lets Elphaba go back to the bastard. Not when she's far better off with her.

* * *

><p>Hours later and Elphaba still can't stop thinking about what Galinda last said to her. The blonde hasn't breathed so much a sigh after she told her, in a not so many words, that Elphaba could stay with her when this was all said and done. It's the biggest gift Galinda could have ever given her. To be free, have a friend <em>and<em> a home? It's more than Elphaba could have wished for.

Oz, it's more then she's ever _dreamed_ for herself.

She won't let anything ruin this.

Not even the nerves that threaten to overwhelm her at the sight of the overturned carriage along the dirt road ahead. She swallows her fear down, burying it deep into her gut. She won't let herself turn into a whimpering mess.

A stench quite unlike any Elphaba's ever encountered before reaches the girls. She chokes on the air, sputtering as she coughs. Galinda merely scrunches her nose in disgust.

_Sweet Oz, what is it_? Elphaba thinks as she covers her nose and mouth with the sleeve of her blouse.

"Stay here," Galinda tells her, pulling her bow from off her shoulder.

"Now or never," Elphaba mumbles to herself. She reaches out quickly, stopping Galinda before she can get too far. Elphaba lowers the sleeve from over her face. "I want to come with," she tells her.

Galinda shakes her head. "No, you're safer here."

"I'm safer with _you_," Elphaba insists. "And I could… help?"

Galinda wonders where this boldness is coming from. It's quite unlike Elphaba to _want_ to walk into danger. Let alone one that is so obvious. But Galinda also knows Elphaba is right. She _is _safer by her side. So she nods, relenting, and together they make their way slowly to the broken caravan.

Elphaba wishes she had stayed the minute she sees the bloody, torn-up remains of the clearly feasted upon carriage owners. She turns away, repressing the urge to vomit by clapping her hands tightly over her mouth. Galinda cringes at the sight. The bodies are still fresh, blood dripping from the numerous bite marks.

She knows what must be done.

Without pause Galinda takes out her dagger and rolls up her sleeves as she makes her way over to the dead bodies. Elphaba watches from a distance as Galinda quickly beheads each one. Once the blonde is done and her blade clean once more she returns to Elphaba's side.

"Have you always been like this?" Elphaba asks her, dismayed. "So methodical?"

Galinda doesn't know what that means but she does know what Elphaba is bothered by. She had to sever their heads. They would have turned otherwise. It's what she was _taught_ to do. Galinda doesn't know how to turn her training off. She sighs, "I don't remember how to be any other way."

* * *

><p>Elphaba takes first shift that night, wanting to prove to Galinda, and more so herself, that she isn't hopelessly useless. So while Galinda settles down, stomach full from the last of the bread, Elphaba collects some sticks.<p>

"You're not thinking of building a fire, are you?" Galinda asks through a yawn as she lies along the grass.

Elphaba shakes her head, sitting down a few feet from the blonde. She places the sticks in front of her, all in a neat little line. "I'm going to try levitating them." Elphaba explains, and then gives Galinda a smile. "I did promise to teach you magic one day, didn't I? I best start trying to learn myself then."

Galinda giggles softly, letting her head snuggle further into the bunched-up blanket. "Don't think_ too_ hard."

"Yes I know. Prime brain, Undead magnet. Got it," Elphaba says with a smirk.

"_Again_ with the sarcasm."

"I've never had a chance to use it much," Elphaba says. Then chuckles as she adds, "I like it."

Galinda smiles lazily, eyes finally heavy with sleep. "That's nice, Elphie," she mumbles.

"Fresh dreams, Galinda."

Galinda mutters back something so unintelligible that Elphaba isn't quite sure it's in any of the languages spoken in Oz. She finds it adorable nonetheless, and then scolds herself for thinking of Galinda in such a manner. _Galinda deserves someone wonderful. She deserves someone better than you._

Even repeating her mantra still doesn't stop her from wishing otherwise.

Thankfully though, she has something with which to distract herself.

While Galinda sleeps soundly, Elphaba focuses on trying to raise the smallest stick. She closes her eyes and thinks about its weight, how easily it fits in her palm. She pictures it in her head vividly, right down to the torn piece of bark hanging from one end. And then she imagines it raising, slowly, just barely brushing the ground.

When she opens her eyes though, all she can do is groan, for the stick is lying along the ground, still as ever.

For being so supposedly powerful she feels incredibly insignificant. A stick has bested her. Elphaba sighs deeply.

A small cloud of air appears in front of her lips. The vapor disappears just as quickly as it formed.

_It can't be that cold outside_, Elphaba thinks. She hardly feels a chill! She looks down to Galinda, noticing for the first time that the blonde is curled tightly in on herself, brow wrinkled. Elphaba scoots over, touching the tips of her fingers to Galinda's hand, reeling at the cool temperature of the blonde's skin. Elphaba doesn't understand what's happening but Galinda is obviously freezing. She's careful not to wake the woman as she pulls the blanket out from under her head, replacing it with the survival pack. Elphaba unfolds the fabric, letting it fall over Galinda's body.

The blonde visibly relaxes under the thin material, curling around the warmth it provides. It takes everything in Elphaba's power to keep from reaching out and brushing the stray loose curls from Galinda's cheek. She doesn't want to disturb Galinda further, not now that she's finally found comfort in her dreams.

A light snow begins to fall as Elphaba sits back down in front of her sticks. She's seen snow before, countless times. Winters in the Emerald City were always harsh and she had no fireplace in her room to keep herself warm during those long nights. Elphaba hates snow. She hates how it makes her feel like she's right back in that attic room again, shivering and wishing her life were different.

But being in the snow now, with her friend a mere foot away… well, Elphaba doesn't think it's all so bad. Her nose crinkles as a flake lands along the tip, melting just as soon as it touches her skin.

As much as Elphaba hates snow, she also remembers being quite enthralled with it as a child. It was hardly ever cold enough to snow in Colwen Grounds. The closest she ever got to seeing it was when the sky would cloud and sleet would rain down. Nanny would keep her inside those days and tell her stories of the snowdrifts in the North.

As a child Elphaba used to think there couldn't be anything better than jumping into a pile of that snow. As she looks down at Galinda, she wonders if the blonde ever indulged herself like that as a little girl. Elphaba has a hard time imagining what Galinda must have been like then. All she thinks about is a short child clad in little combat boots, chasing after a duck with a miniature bow and arrow.

Elphaba smirks at the thought. _Only instead of chasing the duck, Galinda would have obviously been fleeing._

Elphaba feels so warm when she thinks of Galinda. In fact, right now, she feels incredibly warm. Warm, safe and most importantly, cared for. There's a thin layer of the fluffy ice collecting along the ground. The sticks are now forgotten, and covered. Elphaba stands to her feet, watching the snow silently fall around the sparse forest. It's hardly a forest at all, Elphaba remembers thinking when Galinda first picked it as their camp.

It's more like a few scattered trees in some abandoned farmer's old crop field. The house was burned long ago, all that remains standing is its stone fireplace. Elphaba can barely make out the tall chimneystack from way out in the field. The snow obscures the shape.

Elphaba walks a bit into the field, careful to keep Galinda always in sight. She sits down in the snow, digging her fingers deep into the cold ground. And then she feels it again. That same warmth she gets when she's around Galinda. Only now it makes her tired instead of alert.

And before Elphaba knows it, her back rests against the ground, eyes staring up into the dark sky above. The snow keeps falling, ever so softly, lulling Elphaba swiftly into sleep.

* * *

><p>Galinda wakes up groggy the next day a little after dawn. The snow layer upon the ground surprises her but that pales in comparison to the lack of Elphaba in her sight. Galinda's senses snap awake at the realization. <em>Something must have happened<em>, she thinks. It's morning! Elphaba was supposed to have woken her _hours _ago for her shift. Worried, and in serious panic, Galinda quickly grabs her bow and arrow, not bothering to slip on her boots as she takes off into the wet field.

She barely makes it three steps before she trips over something in the snow. Her body lands sprawled in the field, face buried in slush. But she doesn't care, because as she was flying through the air, she distinctly heard Elphaba yelp. Galinda scrambles to her feet, socks soaked as she turns around.

Elphaba is sitting up just in front of her ready to launch into a lengthy apology. She can't believe she's let Galinda down, _yet again_. But before she can even open her mouth to utter a syllable the blonde tackles her to the ground, squeezing Elphaba tightly in her arms.

"Thank fucking _Oz_," Galinda breathes against her neck. And Elphaba feels her whole body heat as she realizes Galinda is actually hugging her. The blonde pulls away slightly, hovering above Elphaba as she checks the woman's body over, searching for injury, bruises… bites. Oz, she hopes that's not what she'll find!

"Galinda," Elphaba says, voice raspy, wind knocked clear from her lungs by Galinda's forceful pounce. Once Galinda locks eyes with Elphaba she tells her, chuckling, "I'm all right."

"What were you doing way over here?" Galinda asks, mind clearly still in a panicked state if her anxious tone and darting eyes ares any indication. "Why were you buried in the snow? What happened? Did some Undead come, is that why? We're you hiding? Are you hurt? _Were you bitten_?"

Elphaba can't help it. The laughter escapes before she can bite her lip to keep it back. Galinda furrows her brow in confusion. Her questions were valid! What if Elphaba was hurt?

"I'm fine," Elphaba assures her, smiling sincerely. "I didn't want to wander far from your sight so this is as far as I dared to go. I just got caught up in old memories I guess," she says softly. She looks down, upset for having failed Galinda at a task so simple. "I'm sorry for being so careless."

Galinda feels the adrenaline pumping through her veins subside at Elphaba's confession. All that's left in its wake is a tingle along her skin. She doesn't even realize she's still on top of Elphaba. Not until she sees a puff of air materialize just above Elphaba's lips. Galinda gulps, heat pouring to her stomach once she feels Elphaba shiver below her. Elphaba, who seems not to care that Galinda practically is straddling her. But then Galinda swears she can see the girls cheeks growing greener and the way she's biting her bottom lip makes her look so kissable.

"I'm sorry, Galinda. I know you must be upset with me," Elphaba whispers, eyes still turned away.

Galinda realizes she's leaning down and stops herself. She straightens her arms quickly, putting distance between her and Elphaba. She can't have almost just… no, she wasn't about to… Galinda shakes her head clear of those thoughts before they can manifest further. Then she picks herself up to her feet before the heat in her belly can move elsewhere. She busies herself with brushing the snow from her trousers, shaking her hands, desperate to rid the tingles still dancing across her fingers.

"It's fine," Galinda tells Elphaba, halfheartedly admonishing the green woman as she makes her way back to their things.

If Elphaba was confused before, she's even more so by Galinda's lack of reprimand now. Since when does Galinda just let something so important slide right off her shoulders?

Elphaba stands to her feet and is about to ask if _she's_ the one not feeling all right when Galinda asks first, "How's your side doing?"

"Much better," Elphaba replies, still a bit stunned by Galinda's non-action. She blinks a few times before accepting the rolled up blanket Galinda is holding out to her.

"Good. We shouldn't be far from the Vinkus River now so let's get on our way."

"Uh huh," Elphaba nods absentmindedly, falling into step beside Galinda once she's collected their bags. Galinda is certainly behaving…. Odd this morning, she thinks.

As they make their way from the farm all Elphaba can think about are how strange friendships seem to be a well.

* * *

><p>Galinda wishes she could turn her brain off. Ever since this morning, since she almost kissed Elphaba... Yes, she admits it now, that's exactly what her traitorous lips were about to do. Oz damn them. Well, ever since then that's <em>all<em> she can think about doing. She just doesn't understand why all of the sudden she feels this... this _excited_ about Elphaba. She keeps trying to remind herself they are nothing more than friends. Barely new friends at that!

And besides, in a few weeks she will be marrying Fiyero. So what do her feelings matter anyway? She can ignore them…Okay, maybe not ignore but at the very least just not act upon them. _Sweet Oz_, she thinks to herself, _this shouldn't be so hard!_

Galinda makes the mistake of glancing over to Elphaba. The green girl is eating an apple she picked from one of the farm's trees. When she notices Galinda staring she offers the blonde a bite. Galinda shakes her head, quickly focusing her attention ahead. She groans inwardly as another thought of Elphaba bubbles into her head. This one proclaims how cute the girl looks when she's chewing. _Chewing? Really Galinda?_ she berates herself. She wonders if this is what all people utterly enamored by another feel like… or if maybe she's just crazy.

She hugs her arms across her chest as she continues walking, the temperature of the air dipping ever lower. "Is it just me, or is it getting colder?" she asks.

Elphaba offers a shrug taking the last bite of her apple and tossing the core to the tall snow-dusted grass below. She feels perfectly fine.

Galinda stops suddenly. _It _shouldn't_ be getting colder,_ she thinks. They are headed toward the Vinkus, to the hot lands where in the dead of winter you still walk around in your summer skirts. Where sweat sticks to your skin throughout the summer months and you'll be _lucky_ to go a day without suffering some sort of heat exhaustion.

"This isn't right," Galinda says, looking up to the grey sky. She squints, hairs rising along the back of her neck as she watches the clouds drift overhead. They're moving too fast for the lack of wind. Yet, subtly so. Easily unnoticed unless you know what you're looking for.

Galinda knows what she's looking at.

She's only ever seen weather behave this way in one other place.

And that was when Morrible was putting her students through rigorous environmental training.


	12. The Undead Forest

**Chapter 12**

_The Undead Forest_

"We aren't safe here," Galinda tells Elphaba, voice low, barely a whisper. She scans the open field, searching for signs of movement. When she's convinced they're alone, she turns back to Elphaba. The green girl's eyes are wide, nervous, and yet surprisingly determined. "Follow me," Galinda says, taking Elphaba by the wrist and pulling her gently toward the tree line near the far end of the snow-dusted meadow.

"Did you see something?" Elphaba whispers once they are a few yards into the dense forest.

Galinda nods, and then gives pause. She shakes her head before letting out a frustrated groan and leaning her weight against a tree. "It's Morrible. Have I mentioned her?" Galinda asks. She doesn't wait for Elphaba's reply as she launches into the details. "She's headmistress of Kellswater. _Very_ adept with magic, specifically weather enchantments. She must know where we're heading and _this," _she motions to the sky,"is her plan to stop us."

Elphaba's brow crinkles, troubled. "How could she have found us?"

"She hasn't_ found _us per say," Galinda corrects. "She just knows where to focus her attack."

"Then why are we hiding?" Elphaba asks.

"We're not hiding so much as staying warm," Galinda explains. "In the open, the air is cooler; at least here we have the trees to protect us from the wind. Morrible is going to try and freeze us out. Oz, I should have realized this long ago! Kellswater is just south of the Cloister, of course she would have figured out our route and run ahead!" she exclaims, kicking the dead stump beside her. A cold gust of wind seeps through the trees, the temperature dropping ever further. Galinda hugs her arms over her chest, clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering.

She looks up at Elphaba, "This was her favorite thing to do. Force us to endure blizzards." And in her best impersonation of Morrible adds, "If the Unmentionables don't kill you first the cold surely will!"

Elphaba nods, understanding, hoping her expression of acceptance masks the anxiety growing just under her skin. She's sure when Galinda had to endure the blizzards she was prepared. Between them now they have one blanket, barely big enough for one let alone two and no thicker than the material of their airy blouses. Elphaba feels fine now, the cold barely nipping at her nose. But Galinda is starting to feel the chill, her cheeks flushed, and the tips of her ears tinged pink. Elphaba steps closer to the blonde, pulling her scarf out from her bag and handing it to Galinda.

"No, Elphie," Galinda shakes her head, giving Elphaba a gentle, albeit apologetic smile. "You keep it, I'll be all right."

"Please," Elphaba insists, draping the fabric around Galinda's neck loosely. "I know it's not much but I promise I feel fine. We wouldn't want your cute ears to freeze off now would we?"

A rush of heat blooms over Galinda's cheeks. She thinks if Elphaba were to keep saying such things then maybe she would be able to survive the coming cold without her trusted Kellswater coat. She gives Elphaba another smile, this time wider, more grateful as she adjusts the scarf around her head, ears now protected from the biting wind.

"How long can she keep this up?" Elphaba asks, looking up to the sky where a light snow has started to fall.

Galinda looks up as well, worried. "At most? A few days."

"How cold will it get?"

"If we're lucky, just freezing."

* * *

><p>They walk for what feels like hours, the air growing ever colder. The trees start to thin as they near the Vinkus River. Galinda keeps them to the forest, too afraid to walk along the banks. She knows Morrible isn't here, knows the woman is safe far away from her enchantment. But that doesn't mean she hasn't sent a contingent of soldiers into her storm. Galinda knows they might as well paint targets over their backs if they were to walk near the river.<p>

And besides, she also knows the wind is ripping down the river basin; it's a natural tunnel for all that cool air to sink into. As they walk they can see bits of the running water through the trees. It's not until Galinda sees the edges of the shallows beginning to ice that she finally stops. By now the air is so cold that she needs to rewrap the scarf tightly around her face to keep her lungs from stinging as she breathes in the frigid air. She shoves her recently gloved hands – again thanks to Elphaba – deep into the pockets of her trousers, shivering.

"We n-need to get out of th-this," Galinda says between chattering teeth. Her lips feel chapped but when she tries to rewet them with her tongue she finds her mouth dry as well. "_F-fast_."

She looks over to Elphaba, surprised to find the green woman not at all looking affected by the weather. She doesn't want to think about why Elphaba seems to be immune to the temperature. She's sure it'll just add another reason to her ever growing list of things to kill her father for.

"Ar-are you… a-all-all right, El-Elphie?" she barely manages to ask.

Elphaba grows more concerned with every sentence Galinda utters. The blonde is freezing yet she knows the soldier will be the last to admit it. The air feels a little chilled to Elphaba, but nothing too uncomfortable. Unfortunately, she is used to having to endure cold like this… she never wants to go back to her attic, back to Frexspar. Elphaba clears her head of those thoughts, knowing Galinda has given her a far better option. She gives the blonde a small smile. "I'm fine, but you need this," she says slipping the survival pack from over her shoulders. She digs out their blanket, giving the fabric a shake before trying to put it over a protesting Galinda's shoulders.

"N-no!" Galinda ducks away from Elphaba's arms. "Y-you n-n-nee-need i-it mo-mo-more!" _Sweet Oz, why am I so cold?_ _This is nothing yet! Barely a storm!_ She's had training for this! She can _handle_ this! What she can't handle is thought of Elphaba freezing. Not if she can do something to help it.

Elphaba stops trying to lay the blanket over Galinda. Instead she stands in the falling snow, waiting for the blonde to realize she's being ridiculous. The last thing Elphaba wants to happen is for Galinda to suffer cold convulsions. They're dangerous and if she doesn't heat up Galinda's core temperature the blonde very well may loose a limb… or worse yet, freeze to death. She approaches Galinda, calm, voice laced with reason as she tells her, "You're shaking beyond belief, Galinda. Your skin is all blotchy and red, you're _freezing_. _Please_. Take this." She holds the blanket out again.

Galinda shakes her head, jumping around, willing for her toes frozen inside her boots to gain feeling again. She wants to tell Elphaba she's fine but she can't seem to will her mouth to open.

Elphaba takes a tentative step closer, blanket still held out in her arms. Galinda wants nothing more than to bundle herself into the fabric and steal as much warmth as she can from the material. But then Elphaba would be left with nothing, and Galinda refuses for that to happen. She shakes her head again. Elphaba moves closer still, now barely a foot away from the blonde.

Galinda swears she feels the temperature rise the closer Elphaba gets. She stops jumping when she feels the warmth from Elphaba wash over her exposed, frostbitten skin. Galinda can't help the whimper that escapes her throat next. Or the way her shoulders hunch as Elphaba finally wraps the blanket gently around her trembling body. She looks up at Elphaba, at the way the snow seems to melt into her dark hair, at the way it rolls down her high cheeks. It is as if she's not at all bothered by it.

"H-how is it y-you l-look so-so-so w-warm?" Galinda stutters, moving closer to Elphaba until their arms brush and she stops herself. Her body seems to want to melt against the green girl's, into the heat pouring off Elphaba's body. Elphaba tenses at Galinda's closeness, hesitantly raising an arm around the shorter woman. Galinda lets out a hum, eyes closing as the cold all but disappears and she finally lets herself lean against the green girl. She feels warm, so very warm, pressed against Elphaba.

Elphaba tries to control her breathing once Galinda's body is fully supported against her side. Her breath hitches as she feels the blonde's cold gloved fingers sliding across her blouse, clutching the fabric just over her stomach. She vaguely remembers Galinda has asked her a question… what was it?

"Oz, you're so _warm_." Galinda sighs.

Elphaba feels a flutter in her belly, her eyes falling close. _Warm_, she thinks. Then she remembers what Galinda asked. She wets her lips before saying, "I don't know why I'm okay now but I felt warm last night too."

Galinda lets her eyes open languidly as Elphaba's words sink into her head. Her focus sharpens as she recalls how she found Elphaba in the field "You were covered in snow this morning! As if it was some Oz damn blanket to you!"

It is odd, Elphaba agrees. She felt almost peaceful last night as she settled into the snow. It calmed her, lulled her into a dreamless sleep. _A trance_, she thinks, it's what she imagines it must feel like to be… under a spell. She gasps. Of course it lulled her to sleep! Everything begins fitting together like a puzzle right before her eyes. Last night, Morrible… why she feels not a bite of the cold surrounding them now. "Magic, Galinda," Elphaba tells her hurriedly. "You said this is all an enchantment. The snow may feel real but it's made of magic! Come here," she wraps her arms fully around Galinda, hugging the blonde to her chest. Galinda feels her stomach twist, her heart pounds madly against her ribs. "Is this ok? I apologize if I'm making you uncomfortable."

"No!" Galinda says quickly, relaxing further, her head resting atop Elphaba's small breasts. "No, this is okay. I'm good… very good."

Elphaba smiles, hoping Galinda can't hear how fast her own heart is beating. "I think my body is trying to protect itself from Morrible. You know, like the other times my magic has acted out."

"I like this version of it much better," Galinda says, hiding her flushed cheeks against Elphaba's blouse.

She feels Elphaba chuckle, the rumble warming her even further. "I can see that," Elphaba says.

Galinda picks her head up from Elphaba's chest, staring up at the green woman with an eyebrow quirked. "My Oz, was that a joke? Now of all times, seriously?"

Elphaba blushes, smile pulling at her lips. "I admit, you have rubbed off on me."

Galinda's other brow shoots up to join its counterpart. "Two in a row?" she smirks. "I am very proud, Elphie. There is hope for you yet."

"Thank my tutor, she has quite the mouth on her," Elphaba says with a light laugh.

Another gust of frigid air blows by, this time stronger. The branches to the trees above whip under the pressure, snapping loudly. The laughter all but disappears, replaced with the immediacy of their situation once more. The snow falls harder. Giant cascades tumble down from the tree canopy above. Galinda clings to Elphaba tighter, both girls huddling together against the onslaught of ice. Elphaba feels a rush of energy roll through her body, her muscles contracting against the surge of magic. Her teeth grind down, eyes slam shut, and arms hold Galinda firm as the power tears through her flesh and bone.

The snow doesn't touch them.

And in the wake of Elphaba's power her skin is left hot to the touch, small tendrils of steam rising from her pores drift away on the frigid wind. Her body though feels drained… exhausted beyond belief. Elphaba wants to sit down, winded all of the sudden. Galinda holds her upright as she grows slack in the blonde's arms.

"Maybe we should… stop and try to… wait Morrible out?" Elphaba says between slow breaths. A fire would be wonderful, she thinks. Galinda needs a fire. "We could… make camp?"

"Not here," Galinda shakes her head, sensing Elphaba's fatigue but knowing they cannot stay. Not here, they're too close to the river; they're easy targets for Morrible's soldiers and Oz forbid if any Undead were to stumble along. She holds tighter to the woman as the wind picks up speed. "We need to find someplace safer! Let's keep moving and try to get to the edge of this." She looks back up to Elphaba, eyes full of compassion. "I know you want to rest, Elphie, but we _have_ to keep going. Morrible's never gone this mad with power; she can't have stretched her storm too far!"

* * *

><p>By late afternoon the storm has only worsened. Galinda's only solace is that it's finally stopped snowing. But she also realizes it is at a price. It's simply too cold for snow. They've come across countless squirrels, rabbits, and birds, all frozen upon the forest floor. Large snow banks push against the outlying forest trees, creating a colossal wall of ice, protecting the girls from the wind they can hear howling through the meadow beyond. Elphaba stays close to Galinda, as much supported by the blonde as she supports her. Her legs have been reduced to nothing but mush, barely able to scrape along through the knee-deep snow.<p>

She hates to think what Galinda's legs must feel like. They've taken plenty of breaks over the day, keeping their pace so grueling and slow that she doubts they'll be reaching the edge of Morrible's enchantment anytime soon. Every time they stop Galinda hugs her close, willing as much warmth into her bones as she possibly can. Elphaba would carry Galinda if she had to; the blonde always feels so small in her arms.

She can hold her.

She can keep her warm.

Safe.

They stay huddled close together as they make their way painstakingly through the deep ice. The cold is unrelenting. Galinda doesn't remember what having fingers and toes feels like. She regrets ever deciding to continue onward. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_, Galinda repeats to herself. She's led them further into Morrible's madness… no closer to the end. Galinda hates that Elphaba trusted her and now she's basically led them straight to their deaths. All she can see ahead is the wall of ice towering along the forest edge. The trees buckle under its weight, creaking and groaning loudly in protest.

She feels like the ice wall, like she is causing Elphaba to crumble a little more with every step they take forward.

"El-Elphie," Galinda calls to her weakly, trying to wrap her numb fingers around Elphaba's wrist. All she manages to do is touch her hand to Elphaba's hip. She doesn't even feel the contact. Elphaba looks down to Galinda, eyes barely focused. "Ca—c-camp… _here_…"

Elphaba nods, finally letting her legs give out under her weight. She falls to her knees in the snow, the ice melting against the heat of her skin as she sinks into the cold slush. Galinda drops to her knees as well, using the last of her strength to push the snow from around them both with her bow. She can hear the wood of the weapon cracking, the pressure of the cold obviously compromising its strength. She puts it down, too afraid of breaking their only long range weapon.

"Here," Elphaba offers, having realized the same as well. She uses her feet to push the snow away, enough room now along the barren forest floor to accommodate them and a small fire. Galinda stays close to Elphaba, already freezing from being away from the green girl's heated side for less than a clock tick. Elphaba scrounges up a meager pile of sticks uncovered from the snow, as well as a few more lying around the rim to their small den. She's not sure they will light, frozen as they are.

Galinda reaches into their survival pack, willing her fingers to extract the box of matches. She growls, frustrated with her lack of dexterity. The sun has begun to lower in the sky, the temperature dropping further. Elphaba leans over, exhausted and breathing hard as she takes the matches from the bag for Galinda.

After what feels like an eternity Elphaba manages to get a small flame to spring to life, its heat barely penetrating the thick cold. There are no matches left.

Galinda thinks if they get any closer to the flames they'll both be lit ablaze.

Instead she snuggles further against Elphaba, wrapping herself tightly around the girl's heated body. Their legs tangle, Galinda letting her calves rest between Elphaba's. And then she settles herself along Elphaba's torso, reclining the green girl against the wall of their ice den as she does. She's too cold to even care that she shouldn't be doing this with Elphaba; she needs to cuddle. It's quite literally a life or death situation.

And it's also very nice, she thinks as her mind grows numb, sleep soon to overtake her.

Elphaba cares though. Elphaba cares so much she's afraid her heart will burst from the emotions storming inside her. She dares to brush some frost-dusted hair from Galinda's clammy forehead, tucking the strands back beneath the scarf. Galinda lets out a small moan at the touch, rubbing her cheek deeper into Elphaba's blouse along her collarbone. Elphaba lets herself relax only once she realizes Galinda has fallen asleep, tucked impossibly close around her. There is not one inch of space between them, not at any point.

It makes Elphaba flush from head to toe.

She pulls the blanket further up Galinda's body, careful to keep them both wrapped in the fabric. It doesn't do much, but Elphaba hopes it keeps some of her body heat in. She hopes that come morning Morrible has given up.

And if not, maybe they'll finally reach the end of the storm.

She knows they're somewhere north along the Vinkus River.

They must be getting close to Kiamo Ko…

As she watches the meager flames flicker near their feet she can't help but wonder what will happen when they finally reach Fiyero. She hopes Galinda is strong enough to call off her marriage. Her side throbs as she thinks of Galinda, unhappy with Fiyero. She sighs, relaxing further against the ice wall. Galinda moves with her, her breaths even and deep brush along Elphaba's neck. She feels a tingle wriggle down her spine at every puff. She swears it makes her feel warmer. She doesn't ever want to move. She wants to be beside Galinda, like this, always. But all it takes is one look down to where Elphaba's green skin meets Galinda's pale cheek above her blouse collar for her to think otherwise.

Green does not go with perfection.

So she holds Galinda closer, willing the magic inside her to keep the girl she's come to love warm. Because Galinda deserves to live. She deserves to find a woman worthy of her affections because they are so rare and so very precious. Arria could have been that girl, and maybe she still is, Elphaba thinks. Why else would Galinda still have the name at the forefront of her mind? The other girl must be beautiful, strong… someone unlike her. At the very least she's of normal complexion. And obviously far more… experienced.

Elphaba's stomach churns uncomfortably when she thinks about that night they spent in the Scrow. Galinda slept with someone and worse yet, unabashedly let her know. How could the blonde be so uninhibited? Was it the alcohol, or was more swirling in her mind at the time? Did she want the woman? She obviously cares not for her fiancé since she went through with it. So who was she? What kind of woman did she allow to please her? Was she pleased? _Argh!_ Elphaba closes her eyes to stop the unwanted thoughts.

But one slips through.

Does Galinda realize how much it hurt her, _hurts her_ _even now_, just knowing she'd rather be intimate with a stranger? Elphaba can't imagine ever letting alone that close. Oz, she could barely contain her urge to flee when Galinda was redressing her wound.

She sighs.

Galinda would never have the patience to be with her. _On top of being green, hideous, and weak I am also irrevocably inadequate s-sex-sexually._ She groans at her mental stutter. She's blushing even now just thinking of the word. She hasn't the slightest clue how to pleasure herself let alone another. It was one thing to read about… but an entirely different thing to experience firsthand. She never dared. Not under the same roof as her father… not when she was always in so much pain.

She squirms, uncomfortable in her skin just _thinking_ about it.

_And now, of all times? Really Elphaba? When Galinda is ten degrees from convulsing in your arms and a horde of Undead could stumble toward your beacon of a fire at any second?_

_It's funny,_ she thinks, _what the human mind will resort to escape from the dire reality the body breathes._

She's feels tired and rests her cheek atop Galinda's head. She will stay awake though. She will watch over the blonde tonight.

She will keep them safe from the harm surrounding them.

She will always keep Galinda warm.

* * *

><p>The next morning Galinda wakes, and is, Elphaba notes, naturally upset with her. But Elphaba assures her all is well, that her magic kept her awake. Which is a lie but it seems to quell Galinda's rising temper. She does feel tired, but won't let it show. Not today when finally, <em>finally <em>the cold has started to dissipate.

It's still unbearable though. Even she's starting to feel the bite along her skin.

Galinda tries to stand, only to crash down to the ground a moment later. Elphaba hurries to help her to her feet. Galinda's legs wobble, almost as if underused.

"I c-can't… feel my feet," Galinda confesses, voice pained. She stares up at Elphaba through fearful eyes. Elphaba feels her heart skip. There was no way Galinda could have succumbed to cold convulsions. She was there! She kept her warm!

Galinda tries to step forward again and Elphaba catches her this time before she can stumble down.

"Here," Elphaba tells her softly, helping Galinda to lean her weight against a nearby tree. Elphaba takes the survival pack from her back, holding it out for Galinda to slip over her shoulders. Galinda seems confused but allows Elphaba to slip the straps through her arms. Then Elphaba squats to the ground, back turned to Galinda, and she smiles up at the blonde from over her shoulder. "I've seen the children in the streets give each other 'pony rides,' they called them. Hop on."

"Elphie," Galinda sighs, shaking her head and trying to keep the smile threatening to pull at her lips at bay. "I'm not going to… to _ride _on you. You're not an animal."

"Just for a little while," Elphaba promises. "Until you can feel your feet again. They'll feel much better up out of the snow."

Galinda admits that Elphaba has a very valid point. She squints down at Elphaba and asks, "Only for a little while? And if you feel tired you'll put me down right away. Okay?"

Elphaba nods, smile growing wide. "Agreed. Now hop on, this pony's skirt is getting all wet."

Galinda feels herself grinning, a chuckle escaping her throat as she rolls her eyes in good humor and leans down, wrapping her arms snuggly around Elphaba's shoulders. Elphaba throws the blanket up and over Galinda's body, asking Galinda to hold it around them both. Once secure Elphaba rises to her feet.

She always knew Galinda was light, and now, carrying the girl on her back, Elphaba can't believe just how light the woman is. She wonders if it's just her magic, or if the blonde really does weigh so little.

But those thoughts are quick to disappear when she feels Galinda resting her chin along the top of her shoulder.

"Thank you," Galinda whispers, squeezing Elphaba tightly for just a moment.

Elphaba nods. She is unable to form words; her body and mind are no longer working in tandem after Galinda's touch.

She focuses on the sounds of the forest instead of the way she feels with Galinda pressed behind her. There's not much to hear aside from the far off roar of the Vinkus River as it runs through the land. The ground below crunches with every step she takes. The snow is just barely starting to melt.

Soon the whole forest will thaw… soon Galinda will have feeling in her toes.

Elphaba readjusts Galinda on her back, and repositions her arms from under Galinda's knees. She can barely reach but she does manage to gently poke the ankle of one of the blonde's dangling legs.

"How are they doing?" Elphaba asks.

Galinda concentrates on wiggling a few toes inside her shoes. But feels nothing. She sighs, "Not yet. I'm sorry, Elphie. If you're tired we can stop. I must be weighing you down."

"Oh no," Elphaba tells her. "You barely weigh a thing."

"Have I told you yet, that you're a terrible liar?" Galinda says with a chuckle.

"I'm not lying," Elphaba replies truthfully. "Trust me, you really don't weigh all that much."

"I do," Galinda tells her softly. "Trust you, I mean."

"I know," Elphaba says just as quietly, small smile playing at her lips. She wants to tell her how she feels, what she thought about the night before… but she doesn't want to ruin this moment they have now. Oz, she never wants to ruin what they've found. She'd only complicate things further if she told her.

_And it's not like she'd ever return the sentiments,_ Elphaba thinks with a sigh.

No, it's better she not say anything.

Galinda senses a change in Elphaba's mood. The green girl growing quiet all of the sudden, her head turned toward the ground. It worries Galinda. Did something happen last night? Did Elphaba have to protect them both? More than she already is…? Galinda hugs the green woman closer. She hopes what she lacks for in words is made up for in her action.

She notices a smile tug at the corner of the green lips.

Galinda feels more than satisfied with that reaction.

She looks up ahead, not at all surprised to find the forest suddenly thick in fog. The same would happen at Kellswater. The heat of the day was quickly trying to replace the cold of Morrible's waning weather. Naturally the fog was the result of both clashing. Galinda holds a hand out in front of them; the low-lying clouds swirl around her exposed fingers. The fog quickly encompasses all in sight.

"Sweet Oz, I can barely see my hand now!" Galinda exclaims in a quiet voice.

Elphaba stumbles into a short, stout tree, nearly knocking Galinda from off her back. The tree cracks though, snapping easily in two as the top portion falls down into the slush of rapidly melting snow below. Galinda swears she saw a flash of red on the tree before it hit the ground.

She taps Elphaba, motioning for the green woman to lower her to ground. She can vaguely feel her toes, but it's enough for now. Once standing, Galinda bends down to inspect the tree. The inside of the trunk is red, blood red, and frozen to its very core. She bends closer, never having seen such a tree before.

_Aren't only Quoxwoods red?_ She thinks. They're nowhere near Quox!

"Galinda," Elphaba whispers, a chill rolling down her spine, not at all related to the departing cold. There is an odd feeling in her stomach. A pulsing clench that wraps about her gut. It screams at her to run, to get as far from this place as she can.

Galinda pokes at the tree with the end of her bow. The snow once covering its sides slides off and Galinda stands upright, gasping.

Elphaba looks down, repressing the urge to vomit at the sight.

Half the body of a man lies along the ground, frozen solid. Elphaba spares a glance to the remainder of the "tree." The rest of the man... his frozen lower half.

The sun finally breaks the layer of clouds, streaming heat down into the meadow the girls now find themselves in. The fog quickly rushes out.

Elphaba feels herself freeze in place. Rooted by that same strange sensation from before that now she can only attribute to boiling fear.

She is unable to move; just like the hundred or so Undead who now surround them, suspended in time.

"Sweet Oz," Elphaba breathes, clasping her hands over her mouth.

A breeze rolls by, some of the Undead crumbling under the gust.

"Fuck," Galinda mutters, in absolute shock at the sight. She reaches out to the nearest frozen Verdigris and taps the Undead's calf with her boot. Its leg snaps in two. The body shatters as it impacts against the hard ground.

Another gust of wind blows through, this time colder than the last. Clouds move to cover the sun once more. Galinda shivers, moving closer to Elphaba.

"How cold do you think it got for them to freeze like this?" Galinda wonders aloud as they walk as quickly as they can through the paralyzed horde.

"Well below freezing," Elphaba tells her, fighting off fatigue as her body pumps more heat to them both. "I'd even chance to say well below what's natural."

"But look at them. One hit and their done," Galinda says, a grin growing over her lips. "This is the answer to the plague!"

Elphaba sighs, shaking her head. "No, it's not."

Galinda turns to Elphaba, brow furrowed with confusion. "What do you mean, it's perfect! They're frozen solid! Someone just has to cast a huge ice storm over all of Oz and within a week they'll be history!"

"But at what cost?" Elphaba asks, breathing much harder than before. She rubs her chest, trying to unknot the tightness she feels just under her ribs. "We're only standing because I'm some kind of magical freak. But what about the animals in this forest? The people seeking refuge? How would they survive?"

"I...um... mass evacuation?" Galinda offers, knowing her answer is pitiful in comparison.

"Unlikely," Elphaba says softly, pace slowing. "Besides, an ice storm over the whole of Oz? No one… is that powerful."

Galinda reaches her hand out, brushing the tips of her now bare fingers against Elphaba's wrist. "...You could be."

Elphaba sighs, eyelids growing heavy, "I feel about ready to collapse… and I'm just trying… to keep us from turning… into ice sculptures like them."

The clouds part once again and Elphaba wonders if Morrible is just taunting them.

Galinda grabs Elphaba by the arm, stopping them both. "Elphie, we need to stop if you're hurting."

Elphaba shakes her head, taking Galinda's hand with her own and pulling the blonde forward. "We can't… stop here, Galinda. If Morrible quits the storm…they'll thaw instantly in the heat… and then we're surely good as _dead_. I can make it… a bit further."

"Are you sure?" Galinda asks, clearly worried.

Elphaba smirks down at her, masking the pain behind her eyes with a squeeze to the blonde's hand. "Where's the girl… who pushed me into a lake of sewage… without second thought?"

"Gone," Galinda tells hers, eyes downcast. She can't believe she was ever so cruel to Elphaba. "I'm sorr-"

"I'll be all right." Elphaba says breathlessly, interrupting Galinda before the blonde can sink into her destructive thoughts.

Galinda nods. "Promise you'll tell me when you need to stop."

Elphaba squeezes Galinda's hand again. "I promise, don't worry."

Morrible sends one last blast of frigid wind through her weather enchantment. It's enough to push Elphaba over her limit. The green girls' body doubles over, pained at the surge of energy tearing through her veins. Elphaba only makes it another step forward before her eyes roll back and she collapses to the ground.

"Elphaba!" Galinda screams, not caring about their surroundings as she dives to her knees beside the fallen girl.

Without Elphaba's warmth the cold pierces through Galinda, the sting unrelenting even as the temperature continues to rise. Galinda realizes it's getting warmer, fast. Too fast. The sun above beats down through the now dissolving clouds. She grabs Elphaba by the shoulders, trying to shake the woman awake.

But Elphaba remains still.

Galinda hears cracking in the distance, the ice surrounding the Unmentionables melting. Galinda scrambles, knowing time is of the essence as she tries scooping Elphaba into her arms. She'll carry her if she must! But no sooner is the green girl in her arms than Galinda finds she doesn't have the strength the lift the taller girl from the ground. She falls back, one of the arrows in her quiver knocking the ice from an Unmentionable's arm behind her.

Galinda turns, horrified as the ghastly green fingers, twitch, reanimating to life.

She looks around them.

They're surrounded.

Everywhere her eyes turn, Undead slowly break free of their icy prisons.

And somewhere, somewhere far away Galinda knows Morrible is grinning.

Knows that she has _finally _won.


	13. Again

**Chapter 13 **

_Again_

Galinda frantically drags Elphaba over the muddy ground. The last of the snow melts fast under the bright, hot sun. She lets out a long string of curses every time she stumbles, foot sinking into a particularly thick spot of slush. She curses more still every time Elphaba snags on a rock. She's sure this isn't good for Elphaba's still healing side, but being a meal to the rapidly recovering Undead is even worse.

"Come on, Elphie," she says between her gritted teeth. She gives another tug on the unconscious green woman's shoulders. Elphaba's body barely moves over the frozen ground. Galinda curses her lack of upper body strength as she breathes hard through her nose. "Wake up!"

Galinda suddenly feels cold fingers wrap around one of her lower legs. She whirls, eyes blazing as she swings around, kicking the Undead's still frozen head right off. The hand drops and Galinda snarls, disgusted, as she kicks the body further away. When she looks up the rest of the horde is also coming to life, finally thawed enough to move.

They're slow though, easy targets, and ripe for Galinda's arrows. She looks behind her. She's still yards off from the end of the horde. And just beyond them she can see the icy bank of the Vinkus River. If she can get them in the water, they'll be safe. Cold, but safe. No Undead would _dare_ attempt to follow. Galinda heaves Elphaba further up from the ground, wrapping her arms tightly around the green woman's chest. Galinda struggles under the girl's limp weight, but the added height helps, her steps backward are now quicker.

As Galinda takes a step back, Elphaba's head rolls forward, her chin coming to rest along her collarbone. Her dark hair brushes along the backside of Galinda's clasped hands, tickling the blonde's wrists. The last of Morrible's magic wanes in a soft breeze, blowing Elphaba's hair forward, the tips flicking up into the wind.

The movement catches the attention of the Undead close by, Elphaba's scent wafting over their heightened senses.

Galinda notices the horde growing louder… their cries hungrier. She moves quicker but trips over the crumbled body of an Unmentionable and falls to the ground atop the remains. Galinda groans as Elphaba's body falls with her and pins her legs to the soiled grass below.

A screech sounds from Galinda's left. She snaps her head toward the sound, finding an Undead just paces away. Her heart is already beating fast, cold sweat drenching her brow. She looks down to Elphaba, shaking the girl's shoulders, desperate for her to wake, but to no avail. Galinda looks behind her. They're still so far from the water!

She slips off her bow and the survival pack from around her shoulders and crawls out from under Elphaba.

Before the Verdigris can get any closer, Galinda fires an arrow straight into its soulless head. The creature lets out a deafening screech as it twitches, falling to a heap of flesh and bones along the ground.

More are approaching, slowly, but their movements quickening with every degree warmer it becomes. Galinda's legs still feel partially numb as she widens her stance. She looks down to Elphaba, trying frantically to decide whether to stay and fight as many off as she can, hoping the green girl wakes, or to keep trying to pull her to safety.

Behind her Galinda can hear the rush of the river… the sound of their far off salvation.

She doesn't have the time to think though, as another Unmentionable lurches toward them. Galinda downs it with a well placed arrow between the eyes. But more are quick to replace it.

She glances down to Elphaba, prone and still on the ground below. She takes a deep breath, willing her nerves to calm as she steps over the woman, positioning herself in a fixed stance just over Elphaba's torso. Galinda worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she digs her boots into the dirt and pulls another arrow from her quiver.

There are at least ten Undead mere paces from overtaking them both.

She's been in worse situations before, she tells herself.

But never like this.

Never something she couldn't just run from.

Never with someone else's life resting in the palm of her hands.

…never with someone she cannot leave.

Galinda remembers the first Unmentionable she ever slew. A slow, freshly turned, tubby man who reminded Galinda of the fat boy- what _was _his name again? - from basic survival training. It very well could have been, she thought at the time. She was given a bow, a quiver full of arrows, and her Academy issued pistol with customary three bullets. As her own form of luck she tucked her father's gift, the beautifully carved dagger in its leather sheath, into her trouser pocket.

None of her arrows found a hit, all soaring high into the air, missing the Undead entirely. She remembers her heart beating frantically in her chest. She'd never had to kill anything aside from a few small animals here or there. Nothing that could fight back… that could kill her. Her hands kept shaking as her eyes darted to the professors sitting high up in the stands of the small containment room. From outside in the hall she could hear the murmurs of her classmates, all anxious and awaiting their turn.

All she had left to use was her dagger.

Galinda had only felt the fear like the one that coursed through her veins in that room a mere couple of times. Both involved someone she cared for ending up dead.

Despite her quivering hands and wobbly legs, Galinda was determined to succeed. She took out her dagger. The Undead terrified her…. But not more then the thought of losing her life so young. Not before she could _live_. The Undead sprung at her. Galinda's heart raced. What happened next was entirely a fortuitous accident. For, much to Galinda's surprise, she managed to pierce the Verdigris through its neck, severing its fragile and rapidly decaying spinal column.

She fell to hard floor immediately thereafter; breath knocked from her lungs as the weight of the Undead came crashing down upon her.

She felt disgusted, repulsed, and all at once _alive_.

She'd killed the beast.

She'd _survived_.

Standing in the field now, filled with that same terror from so many years ago, Galinda feels nothing of the elation that followed her first kill. Because she's very sure there will be _no_ surviving this horde. She is vastly outnumbered and soon to be left with just her dagger.

And the pistol.

Galinda allows but one second of panic to flood through her body before squaring her shoulders and taking a deep, calming breath.

If this is to be her end, then she will go out fighting.

This is her element.

They are upon _her _field.

And she'll be damned if she lets these bastards even come within _range_ of touching Elphaba.

One of the Unmentionables meets her steady glare ahead, his once brown irises now stained yellow with decay. His jaw unhinges, a guttural cry echoing from his throat. He surges forward. Galinda raises her bow, arrow shaft level with her gaze. Her eyes flick to just over the Undead's shoulders. Two more Verdigris join his charge.

She sucks in a deep breath and then lets her arrow fly. The leader jerks back as the arrow penetrates his skull. He falls but Galinda doesn't pay him any heed. She keeps her breath held as she extracts two more arrows, squinting for a clock tick, her mind deciding how best to target them. Then she lets out her breath as the arrows pierce through the air and quickly find their mark.

The two crash to the ground, mere paces from Elphaba's feet.

Galinda feels a rush of concern clutch at her heart at the sight. They're getting too close. She doesn't know how many arrows she has left, but she focuses on downing as many Undead as she can. Hopefully enough to create a path big enough for her to get Elphaba to the river.

Another few arrows fired.

She tries not thinking about how they're surrounded.

Three more, down.

She pivots on her feet, firing shot after shot into the horde.

The Undead grow more frenzied, angrier at every Verdigris that falls by her hand.

Galinda kicks another aside that nearly tackles her to the ground. She twists the arrow in her hand and drives the tip up through the Unmentionable's chin. The corpse crumbles to the grass and Galinda gives its body a good shove with her foot to keep it as far from Elphaba as she can manage.

The stench is absolutely unbearable now that the full heat of the day is upon them.

Galinda's chest heaves with ragged breaths. Sweat drenching her brow.

Everywhere her eyes dart, more of them seem to be converging.

She shoots off another two arrows and reaches back for more only to find her quiver empty.

She looks down to Elphaba, whose face is peaceful amidst the chaos. "Please," Galinda says, surprised by how strained her voice sounds. "Please, Elphie!"

But the girl remains comatose.

_Get up_! Galinda shouts in her head. She leans down, slapping Elphaba sharply across the face. The green skin darkens from the hit but Elphaba remains still. Galinda thinks if they ever get out of this, she'll apologize for that later.

A moan to Galinda's side has her springing back up to her feet.

She extracts her dagger, cutting down with precise and deadly swipes the couple of Verdigris who stumble forward. Another grabs at her back, clutching her quiver. Galinda spins, slipping the strap over her head. She snatches the sheath from the creatures wilted hands and then slams the hard bottom straight into its disfigured face. The bones of its nose crunch under the blow, its skull cracking shortly thereafter. Galinda barely throws the quiver aside as she pulls out her dagger and stabs the Undead promptly through the side of its head. She gives her knife a final twist before the creature slumps to the ground, dead at her feet.

When she turns to check on Elphaba, Galinda's blood runs cold at the sight of another Unmentionable about to dig its teeth into the green girl's calf. Galinda's dives forward with a scream, her dagger clutched in her hand as she plunges it deep into the top of the bald skull.

There's a small gap in the horde after she extracts her weapon. Galinda doesn't know how many she's downed but she has a moment to catch her breath. Her eyes scan the remaining surrounding her. There're a few yards off, but will be upon her soon.

She looks over to Elphaba, to the green girl's serene face.

Galinda crawls quickly to Elphaba's side, pulling her head up from the ground and gently resting it in her lap. She glances to see how far the Undead are. She thinks it is less than a minute before they are overtaken. She can hear them closing in behind her as well, their uneven steps scraping along the field.

Galinda swallows thickly, her vision clouding with tears.

There are too many… even for her…

There is no escape for them.

She reaches down to her pistol holder and unclips the gun from the holster on her belt. She opens the barrel. Just three bullets left.

A rush of relief overwhelms her, mind growing dizzy for but a second.

_More than enough…_

She looks down to Elphaba, eyes unfocused through her tears. She brushes aside the strands of hair that have fallen over the girl's face. She wishes she could have told her how she felt. Wishes there was more time… wishes, more than anything, that Elphaba would wake! She shakes her violently, screaming at the comatose woman in her lap.

But Elphaba remain still.

Galinda cries freely as she pulls the hammer back on the pistol. The click that sounds feels like an arrow piercing through her heart. _I have to_, she thinks. _I have to save her..._ With trembling hands she rests the gun against Elphaba's temple. She looks up, the Undead stumbling through the thickening mud, closer still. She closes her eyes tight, finger just barely putting pressure against the trigger. Galinda clenches her teeth, willing herself to pull the trigger. _This is the only way_, she tells herself. _So just fire it!_

Elphaba's head shifts in her lap, the motion barely noticeable, but to Galinda it feels as though her whole world has been turned upside down.

Elphaba lets out a moan, brow scrunching as her eyes try to open, squinting in the bright light of the day.

The pistol drops from Galinda's hand, almost as if the very metal is on fire.

"Elphie!" she shrieks, a beaming smile blooms across her face. She scrambles to get them both to their feet. Elphaba is dazed, her footing unsure. Galinda holds her tightly to her side as she swoops down and picks up her gun, firing one of the bullets into the brain of the Undead just inches from her extended arm.

Elphaba is fully alert at the sound. Her head whips around, pausing for barely a clock tick as she takes in their position. Her stomach drops as she exclaims, "we're surrounded!"

"I've noticed!" Galinda snaps as she swipes her dagger up from the ground and steers them toward the river. There are at least two dozen in their path, advancing quickly.

"So shoot them!" Elphaba shouts.

"I only have two bullets left!"

A scream tears through Elphaba's throat as an Unmentionable tackles her to the ground. Instinctively, Galinda quickly shoots it dead before it can even open its mouth. She reaches down, helping Elphaba hurriedly back to her feet. Elphaba twines her fingers around Galinda's free hand, squeezing tightly.

Galinda looks up at the taller woman, "One bullet," she breathes. "Elphie, _please_… now would be an _excellent time_ for some of that last minute magic!"

Elphaba blanches. Her heart pounds madly in her chest. One minute she's in a frozen wasteland of Undead and now they're about to be overtaken! She's still trying to process what happened. She can't even focus on trying to summon her power. She doesn't even know how! "I-I can't," she stutters between bated breaths. "Ga-Galinda, I-I _can't_."

Galinda gives a yank on Elphaba's hand, spinning the girl to face her. She wraps her arms behind the green woman's back, hugging her close. "Please, Elphie," she whispers up into her ear. "Please, tryahhhh!"

An Undead launches itself at Galinda, knocking her away from Elphaba. The pistol and dagger are lost in the shuffle, landing somewhere along the ground. Galinda elbows the Undead in the chest, blood spurting over the back of her head at the impact. But the Unmentionable barely flinches. He is massive wall of rotting flesh, towering over the short blonde.

Elphaba stands in shock, watching as Galinda struggles to keep the beast from digging his teeth into her skin. A flash of a memory crosses Elphaba's mind. Nanny…

Nanny being pulled by Undead. Nanny forcing them back… Nanny keeping the Undead from venturing into the garden.

Nanny was the one who sacrificed her life so _she _could live. So Elphaba could stand here, frightened and useless…

Nanny was the brave one.

She was the one who burned in the fire that night.

Because of these… these _soulless_ bastards!

Elphaba's eyes narrow as a calm overwhelms her body and a prickle of energy washes over her skin.

She won't let Galinda meet the same fate.

She knows what Unmentionables can't escape from.

The Undead growls, barring its teeth as it tries to take a bite from Galinda's shoulder. The blonde lets out a cry, her hands shooting up and around the Unmentionable's thick neck. She holds him at bay, eyes flicking to her pistol on the ground. She can feel his rancid breath on her face and she kicks at his groin, legs, _anywhere_ to get him to let go. Her eyes briefly pass over Elphaba, the green girl's brow seems drawn over suddenly hooded eyes, but Galinda has no time to think what it could mean. Elphaba is still safe for the moment but she has to focus on fending off the Undead seconds away from overpowering her.

Galinda uses all the strength left within her to try and shove the Undead away. Just as her fingers leave its neck, the creature bursts into flames. Galinda is thrown back by the blast of heat, landing just at Elphaba's feet, shocked. The burly Unmentionable flails; blood-curdling shouts ripping from its charred throat. The fire burns hotter, swirling up in a vortex of power around the Verdigris. The flames nearly sear Galinda's skin despite the distance. She turns from the scene, head buried into Elphaba's knees.

Then she feels a warm hand along her shoulder, urging her to her feet. Galinda looks up, meeting Elphaba's piercing eyes. She's never seen the brown so dark, and what more blue flames seem to be dancing around Elphaba's outstretched hand. Galinda's mouth drops open, breath stolen at the sight. She stands, guided by Elphaba, to shaky legs. Her eyes never leave Elphaba's face as the green woman holds the blonde close to her side.

Elphaba's hair whips wildly into the air as a gust of heated wind rushes past them.

Then Galinda watches, in absolute stunned silence and awe, as Elphaba sends a wall of blue fire into the group of Undead about to overtake them. Upon impact they are incinerated in an instant. Their ashes float to the ground below, the flames burning orange as they fall.

Galinda wraps her arms around Elphaba's waist, holding tight. She feels Elphaba's free hand slide down her spine, stopping to rest just at the small of her back. The touch is unbelievably light, yet grounding. Protective. The other green hand curls into a fist, arm shaking from the surge of power coursing through her body. Power Galinda can feel reverberating deep inside her as well. She feels her heart skip several beats as Elphaba presses her closer. And just as Galinda rests her cheek against the green woman's blouse, Elphaba unleashes an arch of fire outward.

The wave of magic shoots through the field, slicing the Undead in its path cleanly in half. Row upon row of torsos fall to the land below, some severed at the waist, others through the chest.

None remain standing.

A few trees on the fringe suffer the last of the power. Bark exploding in a shower of wood as they creak, snapping under the pressure and fall to the ground. The land rumbles as they crash to the field, fire licking at their leaves.

In the wake of Elphaba's magic, silence encompasses the field. All save for the sound of Galinda's ragged breaths and the crackle of the dying flames. She looks up at Elphaba, eyes impossibly wide.

Elphaba feels the last of her energy dissolve, her mind growing fuzzy. Her hands fall slowly to her sides, legs suddenly weak. Then her eyes roll to the back of her head and Galinda barely manages to catch her before she can crash to the ground like the destroyed trees.

* * *

><p>Galinda doesn't know how she does it, but she manages to mentally push aside what's just happened in order to get Elphaba as far from the gruesome field as she can. She lets herself fall into survival mode as she drags Elphaba slowly into the line of trees just along the river's edge. It's tiresome, grueling work but she pushes through, holds Elphaba secure in her grasp. Careful. It's dusk before she decides to stop. She still doesn't think they're far enough away, but she can't smell the Undead corpses in the wind any longer. She decides that's as good of a mark as any that she's gotten them to safety.<p>

Galinda all but collapses beside Elphaba, her muscles groaning in protest, sore and beyond tired as she lays along the moss covered ground. She watches Elphaba for a moment as she collects her breath. _Incredible_, she thinks to herself. _She's incredible._

After a few minutes Galinda rises and sets about arranging a small campsite. It doesn't take her long, but the work feels far more strenuous then the simple energy usually required. And every so often she finds herself sitting beside Elphaba, fingers barely brushing over the green woman's cheeks. Just staring in wonder down at the slumbering girl. Even now as Galinda sits a few paces away, her eyes are still drawn to Elphaba.

The green woman lays prone, head resting on the blanket Galinda rolled beneath her head. The blonde takes a bite from their last apple, setting the fruit aside as her hands work to carve some makeshift arrows with her dagger. Her eyes don't leave Elphaba though. She can't stop staring in utter amazement at the woman sleeping before her.

Elphaba struck down more Unmentionables in one clock tick than Galinda thinks she'll ever manage to do in a lifetime.

And so spectacularly!

With such_ unbelievable_ power!

Magic that's left her weak, drained, and oh so vulnerable.

Galinda feels a rush of admiration flood her chest. Elphaba did the impossible. She saved her life! _Sweet Oz, when she wakes up_- Galinda begins a thought but quickly derails it before it can manifest further. She takes an angry bite out of her apple. _When she wakes up what?_ She thinks to herself. _You'll tell her how you feel and things will be oh so _wonderful_?_

Galinda scoffs at herself. Life in Oz was never simple. The Undead made sure of that. So what if she cares for Elphaba? How long before they're both risking their lives to stay together again? Galinda doesn't think she can handle another situation like the one from the field. She couldn't pull the trigger then…

She doesn't think she'll ever be able to. Not if Elphaba were on the other side.

A sob catches in her throat at the memory. She coughs to keep it at bay, willing herself not to cry. Not now… not here, not when they're _finally_ safe. But she can't help it as all the emotions from the field come rushing back. All the fear, all the hurt, all the _despair._ She truly believed they were soon to die. And all Galinda could think about was how short life truly was… and how she never really lived, never really, _truly,_ felt alive except for this past week.

Someone had once told her that every man dies but not every man really lives. She'd brushed the sentiments off as the words of a senile old man but now she believes.

She could have died in that field and truly only every lived for what equates to just a blink of an eye in the time she's spent on Oz.

She looks back over to Elphaba, sniffling as she rubs at her tired and wet eyes. Elphaba's spent her whole life struggling to be free, to have just _one_ friend. She's tried to make every moment, every _breath_ count for something. Be it enduring her father in hopes of uncovering a cure or hoping one day to have just one person to trust and believe in her. Elphaba's life has been full of purpose.

Galinda has thrown every opportunity to do the same straight out her door. She worked hard for what someone _else_ wanted of her. She had to become the best because that's what would lead her to power… to an existence so devoid of life Galinda's sure what was left of her soul would surely have vanished. She's lived her life as though it simply didn't matter what decision she made next. She feels like a small cog, grinding away in a clock that no one even notices.

Fiyero noticed, but she was quick to put on a new face.

Arria noticed, but she was even quicker to keep her at a distance.

And now Elphaba… who she tried to brush aside, tried to _kill_ at one point. And yet here she sits, crying silent tears because for once, for once in her miserable_, pathetic,_ excuse for a life _someone_ has seen through all her masks. Someone has seen deep down to whom she truly is, to the girl she's kept hidden for so long, to that one _fragile_ piece of soul barely clinging to her heart. Someone has seen it, and what more, that someone _cares_ for it.

So Galinda will tell her. She will tell Elphaba just how much she means to her because she is tired of lying.

She just wants to live.

* * *

><p>Elphaba wakes with splitting headache a few hours later and feels as through her entire body has been beaten beyond recognition. Her throat is dry, screaming for water, dehydrated beyond belief. She sits up, groaning and clutching at her head. She barely manages to crack open an eye when the wind is knocked from her lungs as Galinda wraps her in a tight hug.<p>

"You're _amazing_," Galinda tells her, unable to control herself as she presses her lips to Elphaba's cheek. "Incredible!" Another kiss to her temple. A dark blush creeps over Elphaba's face as Galinda continues whispering words of admiration, and wait- did the blonde just call her beautiful?

"Stunning," Galinda breathes, lips lingering as her kisses slow on the green jaw… as the blonde realizes exactly what she's doing. She leans back, just enough to give them both a few inches of space. She watches as Elphaba's eyes flick down to her lips, the green girl's breathing staggered. It's all the confirmation she needs to know Elphaba wants the same. Perhaps, dare she think, even feels the same? Her stomach knots. She wants to, Oz does she ever want to just lean forward and-

_No._

Galinda pulls away sharply, distancing herself from Elphaba. "I-I'm sorry," she mumbles, eyes shifting from spot to spot along the ground. Her entire body is buzzing; she can't sit still.

Elphaba _swears_ Galinda was going to kiss her. If she had any doubt of it before she knows the truth of the blonde's feelings now. She won't let her simply just sweep this aside. She won't let Galinda hide. Not now. Not when they both so obviously want the same thing. The throbbing pain in her head can wait. This is more important. "Why are you sorry?" she asks, voice raspy, throat protesting the words. Her brow crinkles more from resentment than worry.

Galinda levels a silencing stare at Elphaba. "You know why," she snarls.

"No, no I _don't_ Galinda." Elphaba retorts, tone low, laced with her mounting anger. "You don't love him so _why_ are you sorry?"

"Because, I'm...I..." Galinda struggles trying to find an excuse, _any_ excuse for what she's just done. Sweet Oz, she doesn't even know quite why she backed away! Her belly twists again, fear sinking into her chest. Elphaba _knows_ how she feels. She can't feel the same. She can't want her. Elphaba is everything she's not. She'll just ruin Elphaba. Ruin her the same way she's ruined everything her whole life. She wets her lips, replying shakily, "it's not... it's not fair, to Fiyero." He is safe…she can't hurt him anymore than she already has.

Elphaba scoots closer, eyes scrutinizing. "And _lying _to him is?"

"I'm not lying!" Galinda exclaims hotly. She glares over at Elphaba. "You can have a marriage without love you know; we're a perfect match in all other respects. It makes _sense_. It's what's _expected_ of me."

"But it's not what you _want_," Elphaba says, eyes pleading with Galinda to say the words she knows are just on the tip of the blonde's tongue.

Galinda looks back down to her lap, thinking back to her meeting with the Wizard. She sighs. "The last time I got something I thought I wanted I instantly regretted it."

"It can't have been something good for you then," Elphaba says softly.

Galinda feels her walls crumbling. She looks back up to Elphaba, tears once more brimming in her eyes. "I'm not a good person."

Elphaba moves until her knees brush Galinda's booted toes. She leans forward, resting a hand lightly atop one of Galinda's own. The blonde hesitates for just a second before slowly letting their fingers twine. It just makes this all that much harder, she thinks. When she looks up Elphaba is smiling so beautifully at her. It makes her heart ache.

"You're one of the best I've ever met," Elphaba tells her quietly.

Galinda lets out a chuckle, "no offense Elphie, but I'm also the _only_ one you've ever met."

Elphaba shakes her head, still grinning, as she says, "not true. I've met the Wizard; he's a bit of a bastard. Yackle was odd, but incredibly kind, and yet still not nearly as thoughtful as you. And then there were those duplicitous Scrow-except for Dr. Dillamond! Oz, Galinda, we owe him our lives. I wish he-umph! Mmm..."

Elphaba is effectively silenced when Galinda grabs her by the face and crushes their lips together. She is too stunned to move, eyes wide, breath lost somewhere between her lungs and nose. Galinda's fingers slide down her cheek, eliciting a rush of shivers down Elphaba's back and a flutter deep in her stomach. She pulls Elphaba's head closer, their lips pressing harder. Galinda's eyes are squeezed shut, and Elphaba can feel the blonde inhaling sharply, deeply.

Galinda is kissing her.

Kissing her!

Elphaba feels a charge course through her body, her heart beating faster. Galinda softens the pressure of her mouth, her lips slipping so smoothly over Elphaba's that she can't help it as her eyes fall shut and she melts into this new sensation.

Galinda doesn't want to ever stop kissing Elphaba. Not when it makes her feel this good, this _alive_. She tried so hard to keep from pouncing on the girl as she talked but Elphaba made it near impossible when she was rubbing her thumb along her hand as she was. Galinda's fuse was lit the moment Elphaba touched her. She's surprised she held out till Dillamond. If Galinda had listened to her heart she would have been kissing Elphaba before she even brought up the Wizard. Oz, she should have when she first wo-

Her thoughts are broken, completely forgotten as she feels Elphaba smile against her mouth. Her heart skips a beat when she feels Elphaba squeeze her hand.

_This_ is what she's wanted for so long.

She breaks away first, needing to breathe, smile on her parted lips as well. She wants to make a quip, to say something about all those Elphaba has met. They surely can't compare to her now, can they? But the words die on her tongue when she sees Elphaba tentatively touch a finger to her green lips. She watches, profoundly moved, as Elphaba blushes, and shyly meets Galinda's eyes.

"_Oz_, um...am I..." Elphaba's gaze turns sheepish. _She's adorable_, Galinda thinks as she tucks some of Elphaba's hair back behind her ear. Elphaba leans into the touch and asks softly, "was it ok?"

Galinda answers by kissing her again, and again, and again.


	14. Trust Me

**Chapter 14**

_Trust Me_

Both woman walk closely together the next day, each entirely lost in their thoughts. It's high noon, or perhaps a bit after, Galinda thinks, as they travel along the edge of the tree line. They are following the Vinkus River north toward the Fanarras. Galinda's sure they'll reach the twin towns soon… or what remains of them anyway.

A few birds fly by, the flutter of their wings drowned out by the water rushing over the rocky banks. High above their heads the canopy of leaves formed by the tall Oakwoods shades their path. The air is warm and muggy, so much so that a thin layer of moisture now dots Galinda's skin. She knows it must be stifling in the sun. Unbearable, even. The humidity is thick enough as it is under the cover of the trees.

She's gotten used to the cool breezes rolling off the lake at Kellswater Academy.

She was never able to acclimate to the hot weather of the Vinkus.

Especially not to the sticky haze of unrelenting summer heat.

As she wipes a bead of sweat from her brow she knows they're getting closer to Kiamo Ko.

She hasn't a single _clue _what she will do when she's face to face with Fiyero. All the conversations which might ensue flood her mind. She runs through different scenarios but they all end poorly. _Oz, they all start poorly_, she groans inwardly. There is no easy way to tell him what she needs to. She only hopes he isn't truly in love with her… it will only make things that much harder. Did he ask to marry her simply because he felt there was no better match? Or does he really think she is the only one for him?

Galinda shudders. If Fiyero thinks they're meant to be than he clearly has deluded himself. But Galinda knows it's her own doing. She has only herself to blame for what has become of their relationship. And as much as she wishes she could pin the fault on her mother, Galinda knows she had a choice. She feels horrible, knowing her choice was a dire mistake. But what is done is done and that part of her shall remain in the past. Not forgotten but simply there as a reminder of a girl she never wishes to be again.

Not now that she's finally starting to feel all her past burdens lift since she's accepted how she feels for the woman beside her. Well, in not so much words but actions anyway.

Fiyero doesn't stir any feelings in Galinda aside from perhaps kinship, nostalgia, and if she digs deep enough, a bit of fondness.

For Elphaba though… Galinda thinks she may need a novel to list everything that beats inside her.

Elphaba makes Galinda believe in souls, a concept she hasn't bothered to think too heavily about since she was a child. _Beautiful_ souls. Ones built on selflessness… a soul so unbelievably _noble_, and without even meaning to be! How can one soul that's endured so much misfortune be so forgiving? So accepting? So engaging, compassionate, intelligent, candid-

"What are you going to tell him?" Elphaba asks quietly, voice barely audible over the light, warm breeze. Galinda's thoughts are instantly derailed at the sound, her attention turning quickly to the woman beside her. She stares at Elphaba, a flush of pink rising to her cheeks at her now passing thoughts. _Inquisitive_. Another for the list, she thinks. Along with cognizant… if not downright clairvoyant.

And yet all Galinda can manage to utter in dumbfounded response is, "huh?"

Elphaba lets out a sigh, knowing full well that Galinda has heard her question. The blonde has been lost in her thoughts all morning and for a better part of the afternoon. What else could she be so deep in contemplation over? Oz, it's all Elphaba can manage to think about! If there is one thing she is sure of it's that when compared to a prince she is nothing but a smear of grass on the side of Galinda's boot. She could barely contain her elation last night when Galinda kissed her. But then shortly thereafter, and embarrassingly enough, she promptly blacked out from exhaustion once more.

When Elphaba awoke today, she honestly believed the night previous was nothing more than a dream. A teasing, desperate creation of her mind bent on fulfilling a hopeless wish. Determined not to let the disappointment show she hurried to gather their things before they departed their small camp. She was surly for most the morning hours, cursing herself for indulging in a dream so vivid she swore she could still feel the blonde's lips upon hers. Galinda noticed of course, she always noticed when Elphaba's mood shifted.

So to say Elphaba was surprised when those lips were once again pressed to hers would be the understatement of the century. _And perhaps the next_, Elphaba thinks now. The blonde had smiled at her after the kiss, told her to relax, that everything would be all right. Elphaba was instantly assured. Her mind was not deceiving her. Galinda truly did care for her. Even if the soldier hasn't said so much as a word to allude to her true feelings, Elphaba knows they are there.

It's more than she could have ever asked of the girl she's grown to love.

But what now?

What will they do about Fiyero? What will they do about _themselves_? They're wanted. They aren't safe anywhere. For so long now Elphaba has been following Galinda to Kiamo Ko and only now, now that they are so close to finally reaching their goal, does Elphaba wonder why. Why flee to Fiyero? What could he possibly offer them other than safety for a mere night?

He's bound to show them the door the moment Galinda tells him the truth.

So where are they to go than?

A chill settles over Elphaba when she realizes there is nowhere for them to turn. Nowhere in all of Oz is safe. Not while she is being hunted. Galinda will never be safe either… the Wizard doesn't want to experiment on the blonde. He wants Elphaba. Galinda is but an accessory. A poorly-timed extension to Elphaba's bitter life. Before Elphaba came along, Galinda was still free. Trapped within herself but a free citizen nonetheless.

Elphaba is afraid for Galinda. She is afraid what will happen if she stays by the blonde's side. There is nothing for either of them at Kiamo Ko. They cannot stay there. If Elphaba were to leave, if she were to hand herself to the Wizard and beg of Galinda's innocence, than perhaps the blonde could have her freedom back. Elphaba is not deluded. Nor is she selfish. As wonderful as being with Galinda would be she knows she cannot ask the blonde to endure a life on the run for her. She'd rather be alone then let Galinda suffer as they have this past week.

Suffer because of her.

Because of _her_ cursed skin.

It is her burden to bear. Hers alone.

Galinda lets out a groan, Elphaba's thoughts halting at the sound. "I don't know," she says with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "There isn't exactly an easy way to tell someone you're engaged to that you can't marry them."

Elphaba nods, understanding. She wants to tell Galinda she doesn't have to end the engagement, that maybe being with Fiyero is the better choice but the blonde begins speaking again.

"He won't take it well," she shakes her head and then gives a chuckle. "He'll pout for sure. Protest a bit. But I think he knows deep down that we could never work out. You'll see. Fiyero and I are very much sewn from the same cloth. He loves me, of that I am sure, but of the depth to his feelings?" She trails off, trying to find the words to describe his emotions. She sighs when none manifest. "I don't… I just _hope_ he's not, you know, _there_." _Where I am now_. Falling.

"Do you know what you'll say?" Elphaba asks, hoping to gain insight into how Galinda will approach him.

"Um," Galinda stammers, raking her thoughts for an answer and coming up short. "Not… entirely. No."

"Would you be happy with him?" Elphaba asks.

Galinda looks up at Elphaba, brow crinkled with confusion and obvious hurt. "Why would you ask me that?"

Elphaba purses her lips, gaze lowered to the ground. "Perhaps it is best… you and he, I mean. You're similar, and he sounds like a good match. How could he not adore you?"

"It doesn't matter if he adores me or not as I'm not _in love_ with him!" Galinda exclaims icily. She grabs Elphaba by the wrist suddenly, stopping them in their tracks. Elphaba keeps her head bowed as Galinda takes a step closer, hissing out, "I thought _this_ is what you wanted? Oz, _knows_ you've been hounding me to finally admit to the truth about my engagement and now all of the sudden you _want_ me to marry him? I know you've been sheltered your whole life and don't quite know how these things work but _fuck_, Elphaba. When someone _kisses_ you as I did it doesn't mean they want to be with someone else!"

Elphaba finds it had to breathe with Galinda so close. Especially with the blonde so angry at her. She closes her eyes, inhaling deeply to keep her emotions from spilling out through tears. She hears a sob catch in Galinda's throat and the blonde steps away, back turned. Elphaba almost reaches out to pull her back, but holds herself still, allowing her hand to clench into the folds of her skirt instead.

When Galinda turns to look at her, eyes brimming with unshed tears, Elphaba feels her heart cracking. "Why are you…?" Galinda begins to ask, voice catching as she quickly wipes the water from her eyes before the tears can stain her cheeks. "Why are you doing this?"

Elphaba knows what she wants to say. If anything, _Galinda deserves the truth_, she thinks. She takes a step forward, gaze locked with the blondes as she tells her, "You deserve someone who can keep you _safe_, Galinda. Someone who knows you, _this_ you. The moment Fiyero sees you I have no doubt he will fall for you all over again. I've fa-… I won't allow you to sacrifice for me, anymore. You deserve the best life. One that doesn't involve hiding in forests and running from people who want nothing more than to hunt you down," she says softly, finally reaching out and taking one of Galinda's hands within her own. As warmth pools in both their bellies at the touch, Elphaba gives Galinda a calm, sad smile. "They want me, my sweet. The Wizard only wants _me_. You shouldn't have to suffer for it."

Galinda's heart skips a beat at the endearment but Elphaba's words do little to calm the ever rising apprehension bubbling inside her. She squeezes Elphaba's hand between her own. "No," she tells her earnestly, eyes staring intensely up into Elphaba's. "You may think you're not worth it, Elphie, but you _are_. I mean it when I say I've never met anyone with a soul as great as yours. I don't think I'll ever meet anyone as _good_. So what if I have to keep eating berries for the foreseeable future around dingy little fires whilst dodging arrows from idiots who think they can best me –as if they ever could– and Undead who think they'll get a bite from my neck?" she says letting a slow grin work its way over her lips. "I could never be happy with Fiyero, or Arria or anyone else. They're not _you_."

Elphaba feels her cheeks heat, her bottom lip quivering. She shakes her head quickly, trying desperately to dismiss Galinda's words. But they sink inside her heart; her body leans closer toward the blonde in response. Maybe… maybe they could work. Maybe there is someplace safe. Yet… "I'm- Galinda, I don't know what I'm doing."

Galinda untwines their hands, brushing her palm over Elphaba's warm cheek and tucking some of the girl's dark hair behind her ear. "Trust me; you have _nothing_ to worry about in that department. Besides, practice makes perfect right?"

Elphaba lets out a chuckle as her cheeks darken further. "I'm sorry you must suffer my failings, my sweet."

Galinda grins tugging at the back of Elphaba's neck until their foreheads are pressed together. "Firstly," she whispers, "that's a nickname I _more_ than approve of. And secondly, if this is suffering, than I guess that makes me a masochist."

"An attractive one at least," Elphaba offers with a smirk.

Galinda is more than thrilled to have Elphaba's sarcasm back, no matter how lame and atrocious it may be. _Practice makes perfect after all right?_ The girl's wit could use some help for sure, a lot of polish really. And yet despite it all Galinda still finds the attempts endearing. So with equal mirth coating her tone she replies, "I accept your backhanded compliment because let's face it, it's the truth. I'm gorgeous. But I shall amend it, and say this for both of us; we reek."

"We do. And for the record I never said gorgeous."

Galinda pouts, "you don't think I am?"

Elphaba wants to say something back. Something with bite, wit, that will leave Galinda grinning and groaning all at the same time. But when the blonde is pouting at her as she is, lips so close to her own, Elphaba has other thoughts. Her eyes flick down to Galinda's mouth. The blonde instantly understands the expression flickering inside Elphaba's brown eyes for it's the very same one seeming to overwhelm her now. She never understood what people meant when they said they just couldn't keep their hands off one another.

Until this moment that is.

And Galinda is quite sure she wants her lips doing the same.

But not yet.

She wets them, anticipating what's to come. Elphaba visibly tenses at the action. Galinda wants Elphaba to be the one to kiss her this time. She's the one who needs to make up for her earlier digressions. As if Galinda would leave her so easily. Galinda wants to kiss all the doubt from Elphaba's mind… but she holds back.

She needs the green woman to be the one to move first.

Elphaba feels something lodge in her throat, quite possibly her suddenly lost confidence. She swallows thickly, watching as Galinda's eyes grow dark, as the blonde's teeth rake slowly over her bottom lip. Elphaba leans down hesitantly, eyes closing when she feels Galinda's nose slide against her own. She stops uncertainly. Her breath stills when she feels Galinda nudge her closer. She doesn't know why she's so suddenly nervous.

Galinda wants her. _Wants. Her_.

"Elphie," she feels the blonde whisper against her lips. "if you don't kiss me now, I swear I'll-"

Elphaba captures Galinda's top lip between her own, effectively silencing the blonde and sending a rush of electric charge through both woman. Galinda gives a tug on the back of Elphaba's neck, eliciting a whimper from the taller girl as she tilts her head to the side, pressing their mouths together firmly. Elphaba bends at her knees, hands rising to cup Galinda's face. She stands upright again, Galinda's arms wrapped tightly around her neck. She feels the blonde take in a breath, lips parting as she kisses her deeply. Elphaba's entire being feels lit ablaze when she feels the tip of Galinda's tongue meet her own.

Soon their kiss grows desperate, lips swollen. A scratch of skin, a tug, pulses racing, bodies flush, suffocating.

Elphaba breaks away first, breaths heavy, eyes clouded. Galinda doesn't let her go so easily, pressing soft, heated kisses to the corner of Elphaba's mouth, along her jaw, down her neck.

Elphaba leans into the light touches, eyelids closing once more as she tries to gain control of her rapidly beating heart. Galinda sets herself back down to her heels, forehead resting against Elphaba's shoulder. She lets her arms loop lazily behind the small of Elphaba's back, hugging the woman close. She breathes her in. Elphaba's blouse dirty, stained with blood and sweat. But Galinda doesn't care. They're alive; they're here, together, now.

She'll worry about Fiyero later. She'll worry about the future later.

Because berries and shoddy camps don't sound so bad if she has Elphaba.

And Elphaba thinks so long as Galinda is free, so long as the blonde wants her, is _happy_ with her… she'll let her stay.

It's not like she can ever stop loving her.

* * *

><p>They reach Upper Fanarra by afternoon the following day. Galinda can hear voices traveling along the wind, carried from the town she knows lies just beyond the edge of the forest line. The voices cause the hairs along the back of her neck to raise, her senses on high alert. Upper Fanarra has been abandoned for ages…<p>

Galinda thinks she's found Morrible's camp.

They walk a little ways further, Galinda cautious of the growing sounds rolling from the town. Elphaba keeps close, walking just behind the blonde, whose hand rests along her still empty quiver. Two arrows, Elphaba notes. That's all Galinda's managed to whittle in the time since they encountered the frozen horde. She knows they are no match for the troops that await, but she trusts Galinda's instinct.

Galinda pulls them both down gently in a thick cluster of shrubs. Elphaba watches, attentive and silent as Galinda slips the bow and quiver from over her shoulders and places them silently along the ground. Then she points up to the tree and back at herself.

"Why?" Elphaba mouths.

Galinda mimes holding binoculars and then counting along her fingers. Elphaba nods, understanding. The blonde wishes to see how many soldiers Morrible has brought. Elphaba nods again, sitting with her legs drawn up to her chest as Galinda takes another look around before she is satisfied that no one is there and climbs up the tree.

She doesn't have to scurry far into the branches before she can see the stacks of smoke rising from the old homes of the town. It takes her even less time to spot Morrible, dressed as outlandishly as always, if a bit tired looking, chatting with some men near the outskirts of the village. She counts as many men as she can before sliding back down and detailing Elphaba on what she's seen.

"Morrible's here," she says, voice not daring to rise above a whisper. "With maybe a century of men. I spotted some horses near a far stable we could-"

Galinda quiets as Elphaba reaches up to pick a twig stuck in the blonde curls, though they are more like loose waves at this point in time Elphaba thinks. When Elphaba notices Galinda has stopped speaking she raises a brow at the blonde. "What?" she asks softly.

Galinda shakes her head clear, huddling closer. "I think we should try for a horse. Kiamo Ko is just up the river a days walk and with a horse we could cut that time in half. But we need to create a distraction in order to _get _one."

Elphaba thinks it's a horrible plan. "Can't we just go around, stick to the mountains, stay as far away as possible from your ex-superior with the adept magical powers?"

"And if she has guardsmen waiting for us? What then? We need to scatter them. Maybe put some of those carriages out of commission…" she trails off, mind reeling with ideas. She grins as the perfect thought strikes her. "We need a fire. A _very_ big fire."

Elphaba shakes her head vehemently, eyes downcast. "No, I don't want anyone hurt. Not again."

Galinda places a hand gently over one of Elphaba's knees, imploring the woman to look at her. When Elphaba does, Galinda presses a light kiss to her lips. "You won't hurt them, I promise," she whispers as she pulls away. "Just light their carriages up. It'll keep them stranded here a while longer, especially Morrible."

Elphaba doesn't believe she can harness that same raw power again. She's not even sure how she managed to in the first place. But she sits up straighter, hands held before her as she concentrates on the feeling that coursed through her that day in the horde.

"Can you tap into that fire enchantment again?" Galinda asks, concerned at the deep frown etching across Elphaba's brow.

Elphaba groans, letting out a breath as she looks up to Galinda. "I don't know how."

"Concentrate." Galinda tells her, scooting back just a tad. As Elphaba closes her eyes, focusing on the task at hand, Galinda gathers her quiver and bow back over her shoulders, ready to make a run with the green woman the minute Elphaba's power kick in.

Elphaba thinks back to the horde, thinks back to how that Undead was mere seconds from killing Galinda. How enraged she felt that she was so useless in that moment. How much she desired to keep Galinda safe, whatever the cost. She _needs_ to keep her safe.

A prickling sensation bites at her hands. She feels a heat bubbling deep inside her gut, a surge of tingles rushing through her arms shortly after.

Elphaba opens her eyes. Slowly, blue tendrils of smoke and fire sprout from her hands, swirling languidly around her fingers. It doesn't burn; the fire almost tickling her skin. "This is all I can manage," Elphaba says, disappointed with herself.

Galinda looks down to the small flame in wonder. "No, this will be more than enough."

She quickly thinks up a new plan. It comes to her instantly as she hears her arrows click against her quiver. She gathers some tinder from the ground, tying it swiftly around the tips to her two arrows. Galinda holds her breath as Elphaba touches her flame to the arrows and the tinder ignites, flame hot, magic swirling about the weapons.

"Stay put, I'll be right back," she tells Elphaba, who leans forward to brush a kiss to Galinda's cheek, whispering for the blonde to be safe.

Once on her feet, Galinda smiles down at Elphaba.

Then she takes off toward the edge of the tree line, careful to keep Elphaba's fire burning. She knows she must be quick. Knows she will have to be precise with her aim. She's surprised by how the flames only burn brighter as her paces quickens… as if the magic in the fire senses the need.

Once she reaches the edge of the trees she spots Morrible's carriage easily enough. It is the biggest; the most elaborate. It sits just beyond a large tent erected in the center of town.

Galinda gets her first target on try one. The wooden carriage bursts into flames, the smoke billowing high into the air. A few of the guards stationed around the town forsake their posts to inspect the fire. Galinda readies her second arrow, taking aim this time, for the tent itself. She recognizes the tent as the one Morrible uses as her private quarters when she's in the field. It's where the woman stores all her reserves… all the maps, all the plans. All her glory.

Galinda lets her last arrow fly, the enflamed tip tearing easily through the heavy fabric. Not a moment later the tent is engulfed in thick, angry flames.

And with it, the rest of Morrible's men flood to the center of town.

Galinda sets about on her mission immediately. She easily steals a horse from the now abandoned stables. She is about to make it two, but quickly realizes Elphaba has probably never ridden before, and a novice upon a military steed would not bode well for their swift getaway. Elphaba seems more than fine with the arrangement, jumping up into the saddle behind Galinda once she makes it back to the forest. Elphaba quickly wraps her arms securely around the blonde's waist, nodding her ready. With a kick from Galinda, the horse takes off, speeding them past the periphery of Upper Farnarra.

That is until a well placed bolt of lightning strikes down mere paces in front of them. The horse rears, both women tossed to the ground as the scared animal dashes into the forest beyond. Elphaba moans as she tries to sit up, her side aching, the almost healed wound once again torn open. She spots Galinda a few paces away, clutching her head.

The blonde has a split along her temple, blood leaking down her face as she looks around the small clearing for Morrible. She doesn't see the woman anywhere, but knows they don't have much time. She scurries over to Elphaba, wincing as her head throbs with every step she takes. Elphaba allows the blonde to help her to her feet. When she sees the gash along Galinda's brow she gasps.

"It could be worse," Galinda tells her quickly. "Come on, we have to get out of the open."

"But you just got here, Miss Galinda!" Morrible's voice carries clearly through the small field. Galinda whirls toward the origin of the sound, her mind spinning at the sudden moment, blood pumping faster, pouring thicker down her face. Feeling faint and nauseous she blindly reaches behind her for Elphaba, sure to keep the taller woman protected from any more attacks. Galinda hears Morrible cackle before she steps into view from a few yards ahead.

"Galinda," Elphaba whispers, voice laced with fear as she takes hold of the blonde's searching hand.

Galinda stands her ground, shoulders rising and falling with every long and deep breath she forces herself to take. She wills her mind to focus, to clear. Morrible tried to kill her… tried to kill Elphaba. She halts her urge to just run out and pummel the woman. She knows Morrible would strike her down before she even made it two feet.

No, this is Morrible's field.

Galinda will have to play her game.

"_Madame_," Galinda says between clenched teeth. "_Nice_ to see you, again."

"Oh, let's cut the chit-chat dear," Morrible says with a dismissive wave of her hand. She walks down into the field – confidently, Galinda notes – and stops only when she's near enough to see the blue of Galinda's eyes, yet far enough to know she could evade a sudden familiar dagger if it were inclined to head her way. "I thought I taught you better? Simple diversion tactics, really dear? That is what you've succumbed to?"

Galinda allows her lips to quirk up into a snarl. "Well, I was taught by the best, wasn't I?"

Morrible squints, eyes flashing with pent up fury. The emotion is fleeting though, passing quickly, replaced with a serene, eerie calm. She smiles at Galinda. "I do wonder though. What it is my favorite student has done to infuriate the Wizard so? It does not bode well for my reputation to have my top graduate being hunted after all. So you must understand when I tell you the bounty on your head carries quite the decoration for me if I am the one to bring you in."

Galinda narrows her glare. "I'm not aware," she tells her, voice low. "I was too busy making snowmen in your storm."

Morrible stares intensely at Galinda for a moment, as if probing her for unspoken answers before laughing loudly. "If anyone could have survived my storm it would have been you," she says, almost proudly. A genuine grin pulls at Morrible's enormous mouth. "Even in exile you never fail to do me proud Galinda." She moves a bit closer, Galinda shrinking back instinctively, closer to Elphaba. Morrible seems unstirred by the move, simply quirking a brow in interest as she continues, "I must confess I don't want to hand you over to the Wizard. You were always loyal; I was not lying when I said you were, _are_, still my favorite student. I truly wish you no harm. Therefore you must tell me what has happened. What is your reason for turning against his Wizardship?"

Galinda is shocked at Morrible's speech. There must be a catch. An envoy just waiting on the outskirts of the trees, ready to spring forth and capture them both. But Galinda would have seen them. She knows their tactical arrangements. Oz, she's invented a few of them herself!

She sees no one.

Morrible has come alone.

She feels Elphaba gently grip onto her shoulder, pulling her back. The green woman obviously not as trusting. But Morrible is giving her a chance. Morrible has only ever given her opportunities. Elphaba's hand falls as Galinda steps forward. "The Wizard is a liar and a fraud," she tells Morrible hurriedly. "He knows nothing of magic!"

"Neither do you but does that make you any less of a leader?" Morrible counters.

Galinda blanches, "you knew? You knew he was a fraud and yet you sent me to him!"

Morrible seems, for the first time, to waver, eyes softening just a touch as she answers, "I knew, yes, but believed, like so many, he had other resources with which to pull from. I was wrong and for that I do apologize." And with that the apathy comes back, her stance more grounded as she continues, "He _could_ use better advisement but it still doesn't mean he's any less capable of ruling Oz. That what you've done is any less reproachful and not to mention _embarrassing_."

Galinda scoffs. "_I'm_ not the one responsible for the scourge terrorizing the land."

Morrible's brow creases in confusion. "What are you speaking of? Who's responsible?"

"Show her, Elphie." Galinda says, still facing Morrible.

Elphaba doesn't want to show Morrible the bottle. She is still sure this is all an elaborate trap. But she trusts Galinda and thus sighs and extracts the bottle from her bag. She holds it out for Morrible, who walks over to inspect it. Morrible ignores Elphaba's presence all together as her steely eyes focus solely on the bottle in the green hands.

"I've been doing research, trying to uncover a cure for the stricken. In my trials I…" Elphaba pauses when Morrible turns her eyes up, gaze locked with her own. She doesn't trust the sharp, grey eyes before her but Morrible nods, encouraging Elphaba to continue. Elphaba swallows. "I-I came across this substance. It's the origin of the Undead and the Wizard has confessed to being the one to distribute the drink."

Morrible plucks the bottle from Elphaba's hand, holding the ornate glass up into the sunlight. The meager amount of liquid inside swirls as she gives the container a shake. "This is merely an asinine beverage. It's no cause. I had some years ago for Oz sake and you don't see me turning, do you?"

Galinda gasps.

Morrible tosses the bottle back to Elphaba who scrambles to catch it before it can fall to the ground. "And as for you," Morrible says, turning to Galinda without so much as a glance in Elphaba's direction, "you think I am to believe the word of some stricken skinned girl? Galinda, I thought I taught you better. The company you keep-"

"Elphaba is not one of them!"Galinda exclaims.

"But look at her," Morrible protests, gesturing disgustedly at Elphaba. Galinda moves in front of the green woman, shielding her from view and any potential harm. Morrible reels at the display. "Surely she's infested with the disease! That girl is of Unmentionable kin! An abomination to all we stand for!"

"You will not lay a finger on her or so help me Morrible I will not hesitate to end your life," Galinda hisses.

Morrible sends another bolt, this one far smaller, to strike the ground in front of Galinda. Elphaba feels the charge radiate through her bones, shaking her to her very core.

Galinda merely growls.

"Do not forget your _place_, Miss Upland," Morrible snarls.

Elphaba is terrified of Morrible. Rightly so. She's everything Galinda has ever described her to be and so much more. Her command over magic seems almost effortless to Elphaba's struggles. And yet here is Galinda, standing in defiance to this power… alone. For her. Elphaba may be afraid but she realizes if she doesn't step forward now, Galinda may very well put her life in danger. She won't allow the blonde to suffer for her. Not if she can do something otherwise.

"P-please Madame," Elphaba says, moving to stand beside Galinda. She can feel the blonde staring, incredulously, into the side of her head but Elphaba dares not to look down. She can't, if she does she's certain the paper-thin resolve she has just built for herself will easily tear apart. It takes all her will power to take the final step forward in front of Galinda.

Morrible is quick to take a step back, lip curled up in repulse.

Elphaba expected the response. In fact it only spurs her determination further. Morrible is loath to touch her. And she won't bring Elphaba to the Wizard dead… not when Elphaba knows she's wanted alive. She's never told Galinda of the newspaper she found in the downed soldiers lapels that night at the Cloister. She's never told her about the bounties. Of Galinda's status. Elphaba is safe from harm... but Galinda?

Galinda is wanted dead.

She's not safe with Morrible. Nor the woman's soldiers.

No, the only way to keep Galinda safe is to keep her as far from Morrible as she possibly can.

Elphaba realizes, with a heavy and frantically beating heart, what she must do.

She stands straighter; hoping her façade of bravado masks the anxiety that seems to have her stomach tied in a knot. "The Wizard wants me, not Galinda. You said it yourself you wish her no harm. I will…" Elphaba pauses, taking a breath to calm her nerves as she holds her posture strong. "If that is still true than I will come willingly if you allow her to go free."

"WHAT!" Galinda roars. She rushes out in front of Elphaba, desperate to meet the girl's eyes. "No! That is _so_ not happening, Elphie!"

"My patience is _thinning,_ Miss Galinda," Morrible trills. "I am willing to agree to the monstrosity's terms. So do we have an accord?"

"You must be kidding me!" Galinda exclaims, looking from Morrible to Elphaba and back again. "I said n-mmm!" Elphaba puts hand over Galinda's mouth, effectively shushing her. She pulls the enraged blonde back a ways until she's far enough from Morrible to know what she wishes to say to Galinda will not be overheard.

Galinda shakes her head once Elphaba removes her hand, tears quickly flooding her blue eyes as she tells Elphaba desperately, "No, you are not going with her. If you think your father's experiments were invasive you have _no_ idea... I won't let them... I-I can't let you suffer through that again. N-not _again_."

Elphaba wants to reach over and wipe the tears from Galinda's face but she knows Morrible is watching. She plans to escape from Morrible and it shouldn't be a problem, especially now that she knows how to enchant fire to life. She won't be away from the blonde for long. Just enough time to ensure Galinda makes it to Kiamo Ko, safe. A day, Glinda had told her it takes to get there. She can suffer Morrible till nightfall. She has, after all, been through worse.

She smiles when Galinda meets her eyes finally. "I don't expect to be in custody long you know," she says.

"Wha'?" Galinda breathes.

"Just trust me," Elphaba tells her quietly, squeezing Galinda's arms, trying to assure the blonde of her words as much as she is herself. "Go to Fiyero. I'll find you."

"But-" Galinda starts to protest as Elphaba hands her the research and survival bags.

"_Trust_ me," Elphaba implores. Galinda doesn't have time to think. Not even to utter a word in opposition as Elphaba turns back to Morrible and announces clearly, loudly. "She agrees!"

Galinda is struck speechless, unable to move as Elphaba walks up to Morrible, hands held in front of her.

"You may escort me to your…er…" Elphaba blanks on what exactly she will be jailed in. "Traveling prison carriage, thing."

"Elphie," Galinda calls from behind but Elphaba merely turns, giving her a shaky smile.

"Now would be a good time to flee, Miss Upland, before I change my mind." Morrible says as she conjures some ropes and binds Elphaba's hands, careful not to touch any of the girls green skin. Elphaba tries not to look too relieved at the choice of binding material.

Shackles would have made it only that much harder, she thinks.

With one more pleading look exchanged, and a mouthed 'trust me,' from Elphaba, Galinda finally tears her eyes away and runs off into the woods.


	15. Fortitude

**Chapter 15**

_Fortitude_

Galinda managed to stumble upon their lost horse as she ran through the forest. He was grazing in a patch of grass, oblivious to the sudden appearance of the blonde. She had never been more thankful for good fortune in her life.

She makes it to Kiamo Ko just after midnight, having strenuously ridden all day without rest. The Winkie guards stationed at the front gates usher her quickly inside.

Her horse is exhausted, having sprinted the entire journey. His legs quake, lungs overworked as he sucks huge amounts of air through his large nostrils. Some stable men rush out to meet Galinda as she enters the courtyard. They are shocked and naturally appalled by the state of her steed. But she pays them no heed, simply turning over the reins as she rushes toward the castle doors. She will feel sorry for her horse later.

Right now, she needs to see Fiyero.

She needs to ask him for another horse, provisions, weapons, men! Lots of men! She can't save Elphaba alone.

Another one of Fiyero's servants greets her as she enters through the hulking main doors. He's tall, bearded and wearing a polite smile upon his face. His slow manner sparks a flash of anger in her.

"Miss Upland," the man bows deeply but Galinda has no time for pleasantries. Not when Elphaba is in danger.

"I need you to take me to Fiyero," she all but demands before he can ask her anything else.

The servant is undeterred by her tone, simply allowing the clip order to roll off his shoulders. He assumes the matter must be urgent. He hastens his steps as he leads her up into one of Fiyero's many dens. He promises to return shortly with the Prince in tow and then departs, leaving Galinda alone in the spacious room.

Galinda can't sit still. Oz, she can't even _stand_ still. Her stomach is twisted into painful knots, her mind churning horrific scenario after horrific scenario, over and over again before her eyes. Every minute —no, every clock tick— she spends away from Elphaba is another second wasted. Galinda is sure they haven't transported her from Upper Fanarra yet. Not with Morrible's sole means of transportation out of commission. It should take at least another day or two for a replacement to arrive.

But Galinda doesn't want to wait.

She _can't_.

She needs to know Elphaba is safe.

She needs her back.

And while she trusts Elphaba, trusts her so absolutely with her life, Galinda cannot simply stand aside and do nothing. Not when her inaction could lead to Elphaba's demise. She promised to keep the woman safe… to protect her from harm.

Galinda hates that she's here at Kiamo Ko.

She hates that she allowed herself to go against every instinct she had just to prove to Elphaba that she truly does trust her.

Galinda finally lets herself sink to the floor, overwhelmed, tired, sore and full of guilt.

Fiyero chooses then to enter. A towel is draped over one arm and a fresh dress for Galinda in his other. The smile that spread clear across his face drops when he takes in the sight before him; takes in the crumbled, heartbroken girl crying on the rug in front of his hearth. The items fall, forgotten, from his grasp. He's quick to drop to his own knees beside Galinda and wrap his arms tightly around her small frame.

Galinda can't help herself. She lets out a choked sob as she leans into his embrace. Fiyero holds her close, whispering words of comfort as Galinda finally becomes undone, weeping openly, loudly against his chest. He's never seen Galinda like this, not once in all the years he's known her. She's always the strong one. The one to never let her emotions get the better of her. He doesn't know what's happened to her since she fled the Emerald City.

He wanted so badly to go find her, to save her from whatever lies it is the Wizard has perpetrated throughout the land. When Fiyero heard word of Galinda's status, when he saw the articles in the paper and her face printed along the wanted posters, he knew it was all wrong. It must have been a misunderstanding. He's worked tirelessly to try and clear her name, to use whatever political power his family holds to persuade the Wizard to drop all charges. But he's never heard word back.

He assumes the Wizard will soon send a legion of men after him for bothering his Wizardship with the matter. And especially for showing opposition to his commands.

But all that doesn't matter now. Not now that Galinda has found him, as he knew she would. She always did. She always came back.

He picks her head gently from his shoulder as her sobs finally subside, replaced with sniffles and breathy hiccups of air. He leans forward, hoping to give her a soft kiss but is surprised when his lips meet her cheek instead.

Galinda sighs, untangling herself from his arms as she scoots back along the thick rug, distancing herself from Fiyero's touch.

Hurt and entirely confused, Fiyero lets his arms drop to his sides as he stares back at Galinda, brow furrowed. "Are you all right?"

"I," Galinda begins to say but fails to follow up, not even knowing where to begin. The cut along her head throbs, reminding her again why she's here. _Elphie_… She looks over at Fiyero, eyes desperate. "I can't stay. I need a horse. A few dozen men you can spare, the usual artillery, but at least two dozen arrows for myself, some-"

"Galinda, stop," Fiyero interrupts her softly, shaking his head. "You're not going anywhere. You're _safe_ now. I know you want revenge but it's not going to-"

"This isn't about revenge!" Galinda exclaims, shooting up to her feet. "I just… you need to _trust_ me," she tells him earnestly. "I need to leave now before it's too late."

Fiyero stands to his feet as well, concerned. "Too late for what?"

"I'll explain later!" Galinda shouts frantically, but she calms as her eyes meet Fiyero's steady gaze. She takes a deep, collecting breath. "Please, Fiyero. A horse, some men, arrows. I need to leave _now_."

"If it's so imperative then I am coming too," he says, making his way to the door.

"No!" Galinda says hurriedly, motioning for him to stay in the room. Fiyero turns back to face her, still keeping his distance from Galinda, weary of the woman's fragile state and sudden outburst. What has become of his fiancée? Of the girl he's known for so long? This impassioned, frightful mess before him barely resembles the woman he loves.

"Galinda, what is going on? What's _happened_ to you?" he asks.

"So much," Galinda tells him, voice stressed. "And I will tell you, everything, all of it, I _swear_. I'll return by dawn and we can speak then but only if you will_ please_ get me what I need so I can go."

Fiyero can hear the desperation in Galinda's voice; Oz, the remnants of it still stain his shoulders. This is something important. Far more important to the blonde than anything he's ever seen her care for… which he realizes isn't much. Aside from himself and for fleeting moments her mother, Galinda seems to not care for anyone or anything at all. _Except for magic_, he thinks. But the way Galinda's eyes beg of him to go, he knows this cannot be merely an issue of sorcery. This isn't about something… she must be hysterical over _someone_.

Someone who stirs within Galinda something so raw it has her completely unstrung before him now. If he didn't already know Edlyn was safe in his family's apartments in the Emerald City he would believe it was her mother she was so torn over.

He tries not to think of who could have stolen Galinda's heart. Especially so fully, and so fast. But he also knows he cannot deny Galinda what she so passionately has asked. Not when he loves her and knows she will hate him forever if he were to make her stay.

So Fiyero nods and when Galinda hugs him, thanking him so gratefully, as if her very life depended on his decision, Fiyero knows he's made the right choice.

And he also knows he's lost her for good.

* * *

><p>Elphaba follows Morrible into the camp, keeping her hair drawn over her face so as to avoid the disgusted looks the soldiers throw her way as she passes. Many pay her no heed, busy with dousing the fire which still smolders along the fringe of Morrible's once grand tent. The large woman tuts, shaking her head as she takes in the smoking remains.<p>

Elphaba feels a cool, rounded piece of metal poke into her back. She doesn't have to turn to know a rifle is the cause. Her posture straightens as Morrible waves for the guard to lead Elphaba away. The second time the gun is poked into her back it's shoved, nearly causing Elphaba to trip over her feet and crash to the ground. She catches herself but only barely, stumbling a few feet forward. Her balance is off with her hands still tied as they are in front of her.

"Move," the man behind her grunts, jabbing her yet again with the gun.

She allows him to lead her to one of the old buildings in town. A faded sign out front claims it to be a seamstresses shop. Inside the broken, unhinged door is a one room. A large pile of moth-eaten clothes sit along the far corner. A rope leads out from within the stack of garments, its opposite end tied to a wooden support beam in the center of the shop. Aside from those things, the only other objects of notice in the room are two books which sit atop an old desk, worn and dotted with needle marks. She can't make out the cover of the first one. The other is a journal, similar to her own. An ornate quill sticks out between the pages.

Elphaba has a feeling they are Morrible's. But for what?

The guard pulls out the chair from the desk, the noise shaking Elphaba from her observations. He uses his gun to force Elphaba to sit down as he quickly uncoils some more rope from his belt. It doesn't take him long until he's secured both her legs to the chair, and redone the bonds to her hands so they are now placed behind her back. It's uncomfortable, and Elphaba shows the discomfort plainly in her expression.

The man seems pleased, spitting at her feet as he retreats hastily from the room.

Elphaba doesn't know much of interrogations but she assumes she is about to have one with Morrible. Intimidation is key, she knows. She's read enough books on Ozian politics to grasp why Morrible has brought her here. Alone, isolated and with nowhere to escape, the old shop is the perfect place. Had Morrible captured her a mere week earlier, Elphaba thinks she would have been in sheer panic by now, if not completely paralyzed with fear. She feels a certain apprehension, naturally, not knowing what Morrible has planned for her next.

But Elphaba also knows she has a plan of her own. And once Morrible finishes and leaves, she is fully prepared to see it through. That thought alone is what calms her, allows her to sit still upon the chair, eyes focused straight ahead and out the doorway beyond, waiting for Morrible's inevitable arrival.

She jumps, letting out a small yelp when she hears a rustling beside her. Elphaba turns, attention now drawn to the pile of old clothes. Peeking out from under a piece of cloth is a monkey, staring quizzically at the green woman. Elphaba leans closer, hoping for a better look at the monkey's shadowed face when the animal suddenly gives a shriek and dives back into the pile once more.

"_Chistery_!" Morrible admonishes as she enters the abandoned shop. Elphaba can see the clothes rumbling, shaking along with the scared quivers she knows the monkey is experiencing below. "Useless Animal," Morrible says with a roll of her eyes.

Elphaba keeps her eyes planted to her lap as Morrible comes to a stop a great deal of distance from her.

"Miss Galinda seems so _assured_ you're not stricken." Morrible says, voice laced with unspoken taunts. "So tell me, how is you came to be such a color if you're not of their blood?"

Elphaba gives a shrug, keeping her mouth shut. She refuses to divulge information to Morrible. Especially if the information given could be used against her in the future.

Morrible grits her teeth. She'd hoped to find the green woman's tongue as loose as it was earlier. Her voice is now lower and filled with annoyance she asks her next question, "How about you tell me then, why the Wizard wants you so desperately?"

Again Elphaba shrugs, this time adding, "I don't know."

Morrible lets out a breath, frustrated and tired. "Clearly you must be of their kin with a mind so empty."

"I am competent in mathematics," Elphaba says, not entirely knowing where that answer arose from. Morrible narrows her gaze down at Elphaba. Even as the green woman's heart begins to beat a fast rhythm against her chest, Elphaba says aloud, "I can demonstrate for you, if you wish? I'm quite masterful with algorithms. Do you enjoy prime numbers?"

Morrible lets out a chuckle, interrupting Elphaba's stream of verbal conscious. "You have been spending quite a bit of time with her, haven't you? She was always so evasive in her answers too. Pity you are as you are. If it weren't for your stricken nature you would have made a good addition to my academy, I am sure."

"I don't ever wish to become the type of person you molded Galinda into being," Elphaba tells her, unable to hold her tongue on the matter.

Morrible smirks as she extracts a small bottle from her coat pocket. "And who is it to say she wasn't already that person when she arrived?"

Elphaba purses her lips, looking up to meet Morrible's eyes finally. She tries to keep her expression stoic, her breathing long and even. But the malicious glint in the woman's gaze sends a shock down Elphaba's spine. Her eyes flick to the bottle. It's small, barely enough liquid inside to attest for a drink.

Elphaba's heart pounds harder. The bottle is similar to the one her father would always drug her with. If Morrible plans to render her unconscious she'll never manage to escape.

"Wait," Elphaba says, voice breathless.

Morrible scoffs as she pulls out the stopper. "I've never had the opportunity to use this on my students. Ethical codes and whatnot to uphold. But I believe a bit of truth serum will help untangle that tongue of yours."

_Truth serum_? Elphaba's eyes widen. She turns her head aside, trying to keep her mouth away from the bottle as Morrible shoves it to her lips. Morrible lets out a repulsed groan as she reaches out, grasping Elphaba's cheeks between thick fingers. She forces the small top of the bottle to Elphaba's lips, the liquid spilling out over her green skin. Elphaba clenches her jaw, lips pulled into a tight thin line.

She gasps, mouth opening as she feels Morrible pressing something blunt into her injured side. Pain explodes from the still-sore wound as the serum slips down Elphaba's tongue. It tastes of bitter milk and strong alcohol. Elphaba coughs as the thick liquid coats her throat. Aside from the pain in her side, and the strange taste upon her tongue, Elphaba feels no different.

Morrible lets her go, triumphant grin on her face as she recaps the bottle and she places it back inside her coat pocket. The object pressing against Elphaba's side falls, clanging to the floor as Morrible waves it aside. Elphaba briefly catches a glimpse as it settles. A broom, the one from the corner. But her attention is back to Morrible as the woman says, "You'll be more receptive to my questions now. So we'll start slow," she grins and takes a few steps over toward the desk. Morrible leans against the edge, waiting for Elphaba to stop wheezing.

When Elphaba looks up at her through furious eyes, she knows it's time to begin.

"What is your name? Your_ full_ name?" Morrible demands.

"Elphaba Thropp," she replies, aghast by the ease with which the words slipped from between her lips. Her eyes widen, her distress evident, clear as the light of day outside.

_Thropp?_ _As in the Eminence line?_ Morrible thinks, intrigued, but pushes the name aside as coincidence. Their line is long since gone and there was no way this horrid creature was of such noble birth. "Age?" Morrible asks next, lips curled in an obvious, pleased smirk at the power of her potion.

"Twenty-one." Elphaba answers, eyes falling closed as she accepts the fate now dealt to her. _Please_, she whispers to herself, _please don't say anything further. Fight this!_

"Location and place of your birth?" Morrible questions.

Elphaba grits her teeth, hoping to keep the reply from slipping out, but it does, in a voice stronger than before. "Munchkinland, Colwen Grounds."

Morrible's posture straightens at that response. "Colwen Grounds? The Munchkin capital? Who… who is your father?"

"Frexspar Thropp."

And now Morrible is _entirely_ intrigued. The sole heir to Munchkinland sits before her, stricken and captured. How is it this girl has come to be? How could she have survived so long with such blood coursing through her veins? Alone? As interested as Morrible is in the girl's lineage she's even more interested in another aspect of Elphaba's existence. "How is it you came to be green?"

Elphaba swallows thickly, wetting her dry lips as she answers softly, "My mother was bitten but not yet turned when she gave birth to me. She also drank from the Wizards elixir during the pregnancy. I believe I am green due to a combination of both events."

Morrible looks appalled at Elphaba's response, nose scrunched and mouth curled up in disgust. Yet her eyes are curious. "Is that why you sought out the Wizard?"

"No," Elphaba says, now resigned and allowing her words to come freely. Her magic is obviously not going to protect her from this. "I discovered the elixir to be the cause of the scourge and wished to inform the Wizard there was a sole perpetrator behind it all."

Morrible narrows her eyes in skepticism at Elphaba. "How did you discover the cause? I've told you I've had some of that drink and _nothing_ has happened to me. So how is it _the cause_?"

Elphaba feels a smile cross her lips as she explains, "Because the properties of the elixir when combined with dead human blood turn the blood into that of the Undead."

Morrible stills, eyes flicking between Elphaba's own. The green woman is telling the truth…. And since what she says is the truth, that would mean…that in death… _I will turn as well,_ Morrible realizes. She keeps her thoughts to herself, masking her newfound concern with an expression of flippant indifference. This does bring up the other matter though, of who Morrible can now blame for her horrible fate to come. "And the Wizard confessed to selling the drink?" she asks, listening intently for the answer.

Elphaba nods once. "Yes."

Morrible lets out a low, rumbling sound from deep in her throat. Elphaba does not know what to think of the noise, but she has an idea of what must be passing through Morrible's mind. Elphaba knows if she were to die today, tomorrow, even fifty years from now she will not turn. When mixed with the elixir, her blood sample remained exactly the same. Unlike the sample of her fathers, which had become the blood of the Undead. Elphaba thinks there is something inside her, whether it be her magic, or the elixir itself, which protects her from meeting such an end if her heart were to cease giving her life.

It's one less thing she need worry about in a life that she's sure will be short given the circumstances she seems to find herself in as of late.

At least Galinda won't have to suffer through piercing an arrow into her newly turned Verdigris skull.

_So long as I'm not bitten, that is_, she laments to herself.

But Morrible will turn, regardless of an encounter with an Undead or not, the moment her heart stops beating and the orbs flowing through her blood die. She will become one of them.

Elphaba thinks Morrible looks incredibly calm for someone who's just been told they will become that which they despise most. In fact the woman almost seems to have lost interest in the interrogation as she busies herself with flipping through the giant book on the desk.

So when Morrible asks her next, "How did you come to be traveling with my pupil?" Elphaba is a bit surprised.

She has no choice but to answer and tells her honestly, though reluctantly, "We were both fugitives and needed to escape the City. Galinda wished to kill me but I convinced her to spare my life and fled alongside her."

"Of course she wanted you dead," Morrible says with a chuckle, eyes still traveling over the pages. Perhaps there was a spell that could prevent the turn from occurring? If only she could read the blasted pages! "It's what I trained her to do. So why did she spare _you_?" she emphasizes, tossing a look the green girls way.

Elphaba asks herself that very question every day. She knows not why the Galinda she met at the palace spared her life. She hopes it's because, even then, the blonde knew there was more to their encounter then it seemed. That she saw something within Elphaba's soul that she wanted to spare… wanted to save, know. But Elphaba knows she cannot tell Morrible this truth. Not when it could lead to Galinda's undoing. There is another truth she can answer with, and so she tells Morrible, "She spared me because I promised to teach her magic."

Morrible mutters something under her breath that Elphaba doesn't catch. It spikes the captured woman's curiosity and sends a chill down her spine all at once. Morrible looks over to Elphaba, eyes squinting in deliberation at the green woman. _Magic_? Morrible repeats to herself. She knows Galinda has wanted nothing more than to gain the power of the ancient art of sorcery… but was the blonde truly foolish enough to believe it could be garnered from lessons taught to her from a feeble-bodied stricken girl? Galinda was not stupid, not in any definition of the word. But this… this was downright idiotic.

Still Morrible is intrigued. The fire that consumed her tent was no ordinary blaze, of that she is sure. What if this freak of a girl was in possession of magic? What if she could interpret the spells of her book? She asks Elphaba, voice still filled with feigned indifference, "what with being an abomination and all I doubt you were ever taught to read. Can you?"

Elphaba is, naturally, offended by the remark. Of course she can read! Her skin has nothing to do with her intelligence, or the lack thereof that Morrible is implying. "I'm _green_. Not blind, or dumb, _or illiterate_. I've been reading books since I could walk."

Morrible picks the book from the desk, holding it up for Elphaba with the pages turned to face the green woman. Elphaba's eyes take in the old ribbon laid between the pages before they travel over the lines of text inked into the paper. She squints trying to decipher the strange language written upon the ancient stained pages. Morrible notices, moving closer to Elphaba. "You can… you can read this?" she asks, astonished.

Elphaba contains the urge to roll her eyes. "It's a book; I did just mention being enamored with _books_."

"But this one," Morrible says, giving the heavy book a single shake. "You can read _this_ one?"

Elphaba suddenly feels like she's said too much. Morrible is staring at her, surprised, amazed… Elphaba gulps. "Actually, it-it's a lot of nonsense." Which is true, she realizes, still clearly under the influence of the serum. The words are clear, but the language is not one she understands.

"Sweet Lurline..." Morrible breathes, bringing a hand to rest over her heart. She's been trying to decipher the spells held within the Grimmerie for ages and here is this stricken girl who can read from it as if it's a mere children's book! She thrusts the book into Elphaba's lap. "Read this, _now_."

Elphaba shakes her head. "It's not in a language I know."

"Of course it's not you idiot! It's in the ancient language of spells! And you can read it!" Morrible exclaims. She quickly pulls a pistol from inside her coat pocket and holds it to Elphaba's temple. Elphaba stiffens as Morrible clicks the hammer down. "So read, _now_."

Shaking, Elphaba nods, turning her eyes to the pages below. Her tongue feels heavy as she begins pronouncing the words in the book. The further she reads, the more charged the air becomes, until the very spell seems to have captured her voice, drawing the words from between her lips as easily as the breath that fills her lungs. She feels the ache in her side subside as the power courses through her body.

A screech, then an agonized howl sounds from the pile of clothes.

Elphaba stops reading, torn from the spell at the noise. She whips her head around, astonished and horrified by what she sees.

The Monkey stumbles from the garments, bloody; face contorted in pain. Along his back have sprouted two angry wings, black as the night soon to descend upon the land.

"Astounding!" Morrible beams.

Elphaba feels beyond horrible.

Shouts are heard from outside. The men are calling for their leader. Morrible grabs the book from Elphaba's lap and places it back upon the table before heading out to quell the rising commotion.

Elphaba can't take her eyes off the poor creature before her. Morrible had said it was an Animal, a cognizant being just like herself… and she's responsible for the pain it suffers now. Sparing one more look out the door Elphaba slams her eyes shut, concentrating on drawing her power into the fire tendrils from before. It's not long before she feels the tickling of the flames along her fingers, and soon after the bonds around her wrist sever and fall to the floor below. Quickly, Elphaba bends over, wincing as her wound protests at the sudden motion. But she does not have the time to worry about it now.

Swiftly she unties the knots along her ankles, freeing herself from the chair all together. The Monkey is still moaning, writhing on the floor as Elphaba rushes to his side. Chistery, she remembers Morrible calling him. Elphaba scoops the Monkey's head gently into her lap. His eyes flutter open as a coo is uttered between his bated breaths. "Chistery, I'm so sorry" Elphaba whispers, running a hand over his shoulder. Her eyes meet the rope tied to a collar around his neck. Elphaba wastes no time in undoing the tether.

Instantly Chistery stands to his feet, stumbling for a brief moment before touching a hand to his now freed throat. Outside the voices of the men have begun to wane. Chistery looks out the open door and then back to Elphaba. Their eyes meet and Elphaba swears the Monkey gives her a nod of thanks before unfurling his new wings and taking off into the waning light of day.

Morrible's voice booms loudly into the dimming sky. Elphaba's heart pounds madly against her ribs at the sound. She hasn't the time to make a run for the stables. Morrible will be upon her soon. The only way she will make it out now is if… is if she leaves the same way as Chistery.

Elphaba dives for the book along the desk, flipping the pages, frantic to find the same spell. The page is marked with the old ribbon still and Elphaba instantly begins to read aloud the lines below.

Nothing happens.

She can hear the soldiers dispersing, heading back to their posts.

Elphaba tries reading the spell again and makes it halfway down the page when she feels something bump gently into her side. She looks down, nearly feeling her heart catch in her throat at the sight of the old broom from earlier now hovering in thin air beside her.

It nudges her again, almost urgently. Elphaba can hear Morrible approaching, her heavy steps just moments away from the shop. Hesitantly, Elphaba steps over the top of the broom. It rises, forcing her to sit, holding her weight steadily.

Morrible is at the steps now.

Elphaba swipes the book from the desk, clutching it to her chest with one hand while the other grips the broom handle tightly. She wobbles, nearly toppling over but the broom swerves, equalizing her once more.

Morrible enters, brow low, expression that of pure annoyance. When her eyes take in the sight of Elphaba atop the enchanted broom, Morrible's jaw drops. Before Morrible can utter a word, Elphaba's instincts take hold, and with a kick the broom launches them past Morrible and out into the town. The woman spins, aghast, incapable of uttering a sound as Elphaba speeds into the air. When she finally regains her voice Elphaba is long since lost into the clouds and swallowed by the night sky above.

* * *

><p>It doesn't take long for Fiyero to gather enough of the able men on his staff to agree to head off into the night at Galinda's whim. They don't question Fiyero's instructions, simply fetching the weapons necessary from their cache and bringing the horses out from the stables. As they rush to ready for their departure Fiyero stands just inside the doors to his family's castle, watching Galinda, who stands in the center of his courtyard.<p>

The blonde's eyes are focused out the open gates ahead, arms crossed over her chest. A slight chill is in the air, unusual for this time of year. This is at least the third night of odd weather this week. A small part of Fiyero tells him it's Morrible's doing. Why the woman would be so far west, in land clearly not under control by the Wizard, is beyond him. But Morrible practicing weather charms is the least of his worries.

Especially when Galinda still refuses to speak any further of the short time they've been apart, let alone of whomever it is she's about to speed off into the night after. Fiyero wonders who Galinda could have met in her journey. The blonde was always so careful to keep away from others, to hide herself. Who could she have let in? Could it be someone from Kellswater? Fiyero doesn't think so, knowing full well Galinda would take any opportunity given to insult their fellow classmates.

None of them could ever catch her interest, let alone cause her to worry so now.

The more Fiyero dwells on it the further exasperated he becomes. The woman before him is changed. For better or worse, Fiyero has still to determine, but she is changed nonetheless. He starts to believe it's not of Galinda's doing; that the change is external, a force acting upon Galinda not of her own control.

_The green girl_, he thinks. There were reports that she fled the city with that stricken girl from the posters. They said that the Verdigris had tried bewitching the Wizard… what if she bewitched Galinda? Fiyero stands straighter. It is the only viable explanation, the only one that would explain Galinda's earlier breakdown and the forlorn expression that is still on the blonde's face now.

Galinda doesn't know she's in danger. She doesn't understand what's happened.

Fiyero won't let her leave. Not when he could be marching them straight into a trap.

He walks down the steps to the castle entrance, hurrying to Galinda's side. As he quickens his strides, he motions to the guardsman posted above the tall gate ahead. They begin closing the gate immediately. Galinda drops her arms at the sudden noise of the gears working to shut the massive metal entry. She turns on her heel when she hears hurried steps approaching.

"Why are they closing the gate?" she asks, tone puzzled, frustrated as Fiyero stops in front of her.

"Because we're not leaving." Fiyero tells her, reaching for her hand. Galinda pulls her arm back sharply, crossing both over her chest once more. "Galinda, please, you're not well. That Verdigris girl has done something to you and you-"

"She hasn't done a _thing_," Galinda growls, swatting at Fiyero's hand as he tries to reach for her again. "Now reopen these gates!

"No. Not until I get you _help_," he insists, eyes begging for Galinda to see reason. Reason which he realizes she's probably too blinded to even grasp. "Who knows what enchantments she has over you!"

"None! I am not under a spell! You need to-_Fiyero_!" Galinda exclaims, voice shrill as Fiyero swoops the blonde quickly off her feet and holds her firmly over his shoulder. "Put me the fuck down!"

"Galinda, you're not in your right mind!" Fiyero says, struggling to keep Galinda from escaping his hold. "I'll get you help, I'll take-oomph!" he sputters and doubles over when she lands a rather hard kick to his gut. Galinda shoves him aside, sprinting to the nearest horse. She barely makes it a few paces before Fiyero tackles her to the ground. Galinda swings a fist into his jaw. Fiyero barely flinches as he presses his full weight against the thrashing blonde. He quickly gains the upper hand, deflecting another blow as he grabs Galinda's wrists, and pins them above her head as he sits down atop her thighs.

Galinda squirms, struggling to free herself, cursing loudly into the night.

"Stop," Fiyero tells her softly, now fully confirmed in his suspicious that Galinda is utterly not in her right mind. Absolutely bewitched. He leans down pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. Galinda bucks up, hoping to throw his weight aside but Fiyero stays planted in place, the toes of his boots dug deep into the grass below. He leans down and whispers, "Galinda, please stop. It's me. It's just _me_."

Galinda stops struggling as she glares up at Fiyero, eyes incredibly clear, he thinks, for someone so spellbound. "I'm not dense, Fiyero. Unlike the other bit of you pressing against me right now. So I'd very much _appreciate_ it if you would, get. Off. Me. _Now_."

Before Fiyero can move though, he hears a shout from one of his guards posted along the wall. He looks up, just in time to catch a glimpse of green before something slams, hard and fast into his side, throwing him clear off of Galinda. His head swims, eyes screwed shut at the pain shooting through his body as he tumbles along the ground, limbs tangling with whatever it was that blindsided him so thoroughly.

A body, he vaguely thinks as they both finally come to a stop. A body has collided with him. That's distinctly a boot atop his stomach and what feels like fingers along his calf. He wills his mind to clear as he tries to sit up, only to find his back explode with a fresh wave of pain, sending him crashing back to the ground.

"Elphaba!" he hears Galinda shouting, relieved. So relieved. And then hysterically, "No! Don't shoot her! _Stop_! You idiots! Leave her! _LEAVE_!"

Galinda's upset, he thinks. But who's Elphaba? He wonders, the name sounding vaguely familiar.

The body beside his own detangles and when Fiyero opens his eyes, vision still a blur of colors, all he sees is green.

"Have you hurt her?" a voice hisses, breathless from just above his face. Fiyero groans, jaw hanging open, every part of him sore as his vision finally, blessedly, starts to clear and Elphaba's sharp face comes into focus. Dark eyes are narrowed under a low brow, lips curled in an unmistakable snarl. He can feel the green woman's heavy breaths of warm air flitter over his cheeks. Elphaba lowers herself closer and in a voice filled with menace, repeats, "Did you _hurt her_?"

"Elphaba," Galinda calls, the blonde finally entering Fiyero's line of sight above the green woman who's pinned him to the ground. "Elphie," she calls gently, hand extended down.

Fiyero watches, shocked, as the woman above him sighs, expression growing impossibly soft as she takes his fiancées hand. As the weight of the woman is lifted, Fiyero is quick to fill his lungs with much-needed air. He continues watching from his position sprawled on the ground, stunned silent as Galinda launches herself into green arms, and hugs the taller woman close.

"I'm okay," Elphaba whispers, holding Galinda tight. She gives the blonde a smile as they pull apart. "I told you I'd find you."

Galinda doesn't know whether she wants to pummel Elphaba or kiss her till there's no breath left inside her lungs. But a moan from below causes her attention to be pulled elsewhere. Both woman look down as Fiyero finally manages to sit up. Galinda gives Elphaba an apologetic look. "He didn't hurt me Elphie," she explains. "He was just trying to keep me safe…"

Elphaba snorts. "He has a funny way of going about it."

"Please," Galinda whispers, giving Elphaba's hand a squeeze. "Trust me."

Elphaba sighs, nodding and Galinda gets down to her knees beside Fiyero. He brings a hand to his head, rubbing at a particularly tender spot along the back of his skull. Lurline, he thinks, it feels like he landed on a sharp brick. His eyes flicker briefly behind him; a discarded broom laying a few paces away catches his attention. Odd, that wasn't there earlier.

"Fiyero," Galinda calls his name gently. He turns to the blonde, confusion, worry, pain and concern all etched across his face. "Are you all right?"

He nods, wincing before giving Galinda a small smile. "Been better."

"I bet," Galinda says, pleased to see at least he seems to not have suffered too badly… mentally that is. "Now that that's out of the way I hope you don't still think I'm bewitched or something equally ridiculous. Right?"

His eyes flicker up to the green woman above him, the air rising along his arms at the look of scorn upon the woman's face. "No," he says, mind fuzzy but clearing rapidly as his eyes lock with the stern ones above. His own narrow into the brown as Galinda helps him to his feet. This… this _creature_ is the one who tackled him to the ground. Her skin is as vividly green, as nauseatingly verdigris as the papers describe. The scowl on her face is equally off-putting. He feels his head spin a bit, whether from the girls glare or his own body's equilibrium still regaining control he's not sure. There is one thing he is very sure of though.

This woman is a threat.

She's wanted, dangerous and obviously stricken.

Standing as upright as he can, even though he wishes to do nothing more than double over in pain, Fiyero moves in front of his fiancée and tells Elphaba in a voice laced with disdain, "Leave my home now, _Verdigris_, before I'm forced to spill your _tainted_ blood on my ground."


	16. The Prince's Home

**Chapter 16**

_The Prince's Home_

Galinda is having trouble processing everything that's just happened. From Elphaba's arrival on that broom —_since when can she fly?_— to her utter take down of Fiyero and now to Fiyero's obvious threat on Elphaba's life. It's too much, too fast and it makes Galinda's head spin. Yet, despite the dizziness swirling in her brain, she knows without a doubt that Fiyero will follow through with his threat if she doesn't do something, _now_.

As he whips out the pistol from his belt holster, Galinda strikes out, swiping the gun from his grasp. She steps forward, placing herself between him and Elphaba. Two sets of worried eyes meet her gaze and Galinda steadies herself, pointing the gun straight into Fiyero's chest. At his stunned expression she lowers the weapon to her side, moving closer to Elphaba.

The two women exchange a look, one that causes Fiyero's heart to twist painfully.

Galinda has never once looked at him with such obvious concern. Such fervent devotion…

The single glance shatters what little hope Fiyero has left. He glowers, and spits out, "_Her? _Of all the people in Oz you could have fallen for instead of me you fell for this… this _thing_!"

Galinda winces at his words, the sting of the betrayal thick in his tone. But the anger that flares in her at the insult pushes what little regard she has for his emotions aside. Scowling right back up at him she says bitterly, "Don't you _dare_ call her that. She's far more human than either you or I."

"She's fucking green!" Fiyero exclaims, voice echoing in the now empty courtyard. Elphaba folds her arms over her chest, eyes focused to the ground, jaw clenched tightly in silent indignation. Galinda bristles, sensing Elphaba's unease and hating Fiyero for being the cause of it. She continues to glare through dangerously narrowed eyes up at the man she realizes she is still very much engaged to.

She can't believe he's acting so… so…

Galinda feels her resolve softening as she realizes he's acting just as she did when she first saw Elphaba.

She can't blame him.

Just like she can't expect him to welcome Elphaba with open arms.

They really need to talk.

"Fiyero," Galinda says calmly, hoping his anger ebbs some at her gentle tone. When she sees his shoulders loosen and his brow relax ever-so-slightly she continues, "I promised to tell you everything, remember? Let's go inside and I will explain. _Please_."

Fiyero stares at Galinda for moment, thinking over her suggestion. The last thing he wants to do right now is talk, not with that thing-_Elphaba_ so close. His lip curls in disgust as he nods over toward the green woman. "And what about _her_? You don't just expect me to let her tag along do you? She's not welcome in my home!"

Galinda expected that, she really did; it doesn't make hearing it hurt any less though. Galinda has to remind herself that the reason he despises Elphaba is because he doesn't know her. She feels Elphaba tensing behind her and she reaches back, placing a steadying hand along Elphaba's hip. Fiyero rolls his eyes at the gesture, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. Galinda sighs, "Please Fiyero, if you wish to hear what I have to say you'll let us _both_ inside. I'll speak with you in private and Elphaba can wait for me elsewhere. I promise once all is said we'll leave you. You never have to see our faces again."

Fiyero's expression turns fretful at Galinda's words. He runs a hand through his hair, stepping forward as quickly as he says, "no, you don't have to go. Galinda, we can work this out."

There is only so much back and forth Galinda can take. And Fiyero's pathetic tone of voice doesn't help matters. She gives another sigh, this one out of aggravation, as she tells him, "Inside. Talking. You and I. Now."

Fiyero nods quickly, looking past Galinda to something just over her shoulder. He waves his hand into the air. Galinda turns, surprised to see the servant who greeted her earlier watching them curiously from the front doors. At Fiyero's signal the man walks over.

"Escort… _her_," Fiyero struggles with the word as he indicates Elphaba with a flick of his wrist, "to the far tower attic please."

"Attic?" Galinda whirls on him. "She's not going to-!"

"It's all right, Galinda," Elphaba says, interrupting before the blonde can explode further. She gives Galinda a small smile before turning to Fiyero, expression conveying absolute appreciation. "Thank you, sir. It's very kind of you to open your home to me."

Fiyero shudders at being directly addressed by Elphaba, and so graciously to boot. _How dare she act decent_, he thinks. No amount of feigned manners will ever change the fact that she's green. That she's some half-bred freak… one of _them_.

Elphaba shares one more cautious look with Galinda before being led away. Once safely inside the castle doors, Galinda turns back to Fiyero, the spark of anger back in her eye. "I cannot _believe_ you."

"Choice words coming from someone enamored by some sort of half-Verdigris monstrosity," Fiyero fires back.

Galinda feels her temple throb as counter arguments quickly form on her tongue. But she clenches her fists, and wills the anger to subside. _He doesn't know better, he doesn't know her_, she repeats in her head. When she looks back up at him, her eyes are no longer holding his in contempt. She steps forward and holds Fiyero's pistol out for him to take. "Here, let's go inside and-"

"_No_," Fiyero snaps, snatching his pistol from her palm and stuffing it hurriedly back into his belt. "Here is _perfectly_ fine. No matter where we go it's not going to change what you have to say to me. So out with it."

"I can't marry you," Galinda tells him softly.

"Because you want to _fuck her_ instead," he snarls.

"_No_," Galinda says, undeterred by his tone. She remains composed. Calm. Open. "Because you deserve someone _better_ than me, Fiyero. Someone who will love you with all they have."

"_You_ used to. You used to love me like that. Sweet Oz, Galinda, what's happened? How could you have changed your mind so suddenly? Less than two weeks ago I proposed and you were beyond ecstatic! _What's changed_?" Fiyero's last words come out in a hurried rush, his tone having grown ever more desperate. His eyes bore into Galinda, pleading, trying to understand the woman standing so resiliently before him, who is looking at him with such empathy.

It confuses him why she's acting so unlike herself. _That green girl couldn't have done this. _She couldn't have broken Galinda's walls so thoroughly… so quickly.

Galinda can see the fondness Fiyero holds for her in his gaze. She has to look away. She won't be able to watch his expression change to hate with what she says next, "I was never in love with you."

"W-what?" Fiyero stammers, the chill air penetrating through his body far stronger than it was before.

Galinda looks up at him, truly looks at the man she would have married if Elphaba had never stumbled into her life. At the moment he's a quivering mess. His eyes are slowly brimming with tears as he hugs one arm over his chest. She can see the strong grip his hand has on his upper arm. The knuckles of his fingers glare white against his tan skin. He always stood like this when she was telling him something he didn't want to hear.

Almost as if he was protecting his heart from the pain to come.

Fiyero is her friend. Galinda hopes he can still be. He may not ever accept her relationship with Elphaba… but she hopes he can accept her apology now.

"I'm sorry, Fiyero," she tells him with utmost honesty and sincerity. "I thought if we married everything would be all right. Better you, my best friend, than some awful man my mother forced upon me. She wanted us together, you know. Even threatened me with expulsion if I didn't court you."

"Than why did you?" Fiyero asks and Galinda is relieved to hear his voice once more its usual smooth timbre. "She could never turn Morrible against you, not without proof."

"You don't know my mother Fiyero. She would have found a way."

"And so us, everything was a lie?" he asks quietly.

Galinda wants to nod and confirm that everything he's come to believe is untrue. _But not all of it is_, she realizes. He doesn't know everything and she promised to explain. He deserves to know. So Galinda tells him. She starts with how she felt that night at the Philosophy Club, of how she hoped to be able to return his affections. She tells him why she kissed him back in the forest, why she pretended so convincingly to love him in return. There was no other choice. She wasn't going to give up her hope of magic. It all seems so petty now as she recalls it to him. Yet Fiyero listens intently to her every word. He listens as Galinda tells him of the Wizard, of the man's lies and deceit. Of how Elphaba stood and tried to make right only for it all to come crashing down around them.

When she's finished Fiyero feels as though he's looking at an entirely different person. He doesn't want to believe all the time he's spent with Galinda, all the kisses shared, all the nights spent in each other's arms… that all of that was merely an act just for his sake. He should have known, he thinks. Her true feelings were always there. They were evident in the way she'd never stay beside him through the night, always leaving before he woke. The way her voice wavered every time she'd tell him she loved him too. The way she never could quite meet his eye when she did so….

The night they first slept together in the Philosophy Club, even with all the liquor dulling their senses and lowering their inhibitions, he realizes that night should have been all the proof he'd ever need of her true feelings for him.

Galinda Upland was not made to love Fiyero Tiggular.

It's a fact that's always hovered just at the back of his mind. He thinks she did a good job of making him believe otherwise. He feels ashamed of himself for not seeing the truth sooner.

He knew the moment he saw Galinda crying in his den that he'd lost the blonde forever.

He was never really hears to begin with, he realizes.

And he was all right with letting her go… so long as the one she'd chosen was worthy.

Fiyero doesn't think Elphaba is at all worthy of the woman before him. Galinda is everything he's ever wanted in a girl and so much more. What could the blonde possibly see in someone so hideous? Someone so clearly undeserving of everything Galinda's come to stand for?

Why Elphaba? Why her when he's so clearly superior?

"Why _her_?" escapes his lips with such emotion Galinda flinches.

She doesn't have to think on his question; the answer simply flows from her mouth as if it's always been there, just waiting to be spoken. "Because she's everything good in this world and despite all she's had to endure, she _still_ wants to help. Oz Fiyero, her father used to torture her and she allowed him to, all because she held out hope that maybe one day he'd discover a cure while… while _dissecting_ her body. Could any of us claim to do the same if we were in her position? She can't help being born green. It doesn't mean she's stricken. _She's not one of them_. She's the furthest thing from an Undead there will _ever_ be. More so than you or I or anyone we know. We all claim to be human when _she's_ the one who truly is. She's the good one. I hardly deserve her… "

Fiyero says nothing after her heartfelt admission. His arms drop to his sides, the bruise forming along his skin from where Elphaba plowed into him throbs at the motion. It reminds him of the green girl's words from earlier. He swears he can still hear the low voice echoing in his ears, '_did you_ _hurt her_?' He could never hurt Galinda. And while he may never understand what she sees in the weird green girl at least he knows she's with someone who will fight for her.

For now, it's enough.

He doesn't want to think about how he's losing his fiancée.

His best friend…

He needs time. He needs to be alone. He can't even look at her right now without his heart coiling painfully in his chest.

But he knows what the right choice is. It doesn't make the hurt he knows will follow any less raw though.

"You can both stay tonight," he tells her quietly with his eyes downcast. "I'll arrange for horses and supplies to be ready for you come morning."

"Thank you," Galinda whispers, knowing that's more than she deserves.

The night air has dipped lower and Galinda hugs her arms over her chest at the cool breeze that rolls over the castle. In Upper Fanarra she knows Morrible is upset. As Fiyero turns to go, he doesn't quite feel the chill that bites at Galinda's skin, numb as he is to the world right now. He tries to maintain composure as he walks across the courtyard, but when his eyes land on an old book lying discarded in the dying grass he pauses. He feels as though he's right back at Kellswater, sitting in another of Dillamond's boring lectures, textbook lying open before him much like the one on the ground below. All he can see is Galinda's smile. The way she seems to brighten, holding back a laugh as she takes in the doodle he's just passed her.

Fiyero breathes in deeply, eyes falling close at the memory. As it fades he swears he can feel the playful shove she'd always give him after Dillamond reprimanded them for disturbing his lesson.

_She'll always be that girl_, he thinks. And she may not need him today or tomorrow or even twenty years from now… it won't matter because he will always be there for her. He'll always want to see her happy.

Fiyero turns and meets Galinda's gaze steadily. The blonde is still standing where she was last, watching him through a mixture of curious and sad eyes. A weak smile forms across his lips as he tells her, "I will always love you, Galinda."

She gives him a small smile in return. It's all either of them knows she can offer anymore.

* * *

><p>Elphaba watches from the sole window in the tower attic as Fiyero walks back into the castle. She can't make out his face from this height, but she can imagine the frown marring his features given the slow pace of his retreating steps. Galinda remains standing in the courtyard long after Fiyero has disappeared from view. The blonde is hugging her arms across her chest and if Elphaba squints she can see the soldier's right thumb rubbing along her blouse. Elphaba can't help but think how small Galinda seems now, and she knows it has nothing to do with the distance.<p>

Elphaba imagines what it would have been like if she had seen Galinda like this from her old attic room at the Consulate. Would she have felt as compelled to run down the stairs and gather the girl in her arms as she does now? How many times had Galinda walked by, unaware of the hardship Elphaba endured inside those stone walls? How many times did Elphaba's eyes flitter over the blonde's head unknowingly?

_It wouldn't have mattered_, Elphaba thinks to herself. Because the woman standing in the courtyard now is far from the girl she met in the alley that morning. This Galinda is better. She's protective, caring, warm, honest…

Elphaba is proud of her. She's proud of Galinda for finally confronting all the lies she has hidden behind for so long.

Elphaba smiles as she leans her forehead against the window. The glass feels cool against her skin as her even breaths create a light fog upon the clear planes. She feels nothing of the loneliness that plagued her as she used to stand inside her old room, much like she is now. Instead Elphaba feels a deep warmth bloom from inside her gut, spreading to wrap itself snuggly about her heart.

She knows, without shadow of a doubt, that she is in love with the woman below.

She is in love with someone whose bravery she knows exceeds even the strongest of heroes she's ever read about. Whose heart beats with goodness. Elphaba smirks as she muses, _whose stubborn streak could rival even the most resolute of minds_. Above all else she's in love with a beautiful soul, no matter how much Galinda protests otherwise on the matter.

As if sensing Elphaba's gaze, Galinda looks up to the attic window. The distance seems trivial to Elphaba when she sees the blonde's lips pull into a soft smile. Elphaba presses her hand to the glass, hoping Galinda can see the similar grin that now rests along her face. Too soon the blonde looks away and Elphaba watches as Galinda hurries to collect the discarded broom and spell book.

Elphaba didn't mean to leave them behind and she feels a pang of embarrassment now that Galinda is gathering them for her. They were the furthest thing from her mind as she was being led away. All her thoughts were plagued with worries of the conversation soon to take place behind her. One she hopes ended well… for both people involved.

For despite her initial reaction to the man, Elphaba knows Fiyero is not a bad person.

It still doesn't stop the bitter taste that forms along her tongue at the thought of him though.

Not much time elapses before Elphaba hears a faint knock along the old door. The handle is turned and the door opened a crack. Elphaba can't help but grin as Galinda peeks her head inside.

There are so many things Elphaba wants to tell her now that she's here. _I'm proud of you, thank you, I_ _love you…_ And yet of all the phrases and words swimming in her brain all Elphaba manages to say is a simple, breathy, "hi."

Galinda's smile widens at Elphaba's soft greeting. She steps into the room fully, lying the broom and book gently along the floor beside the door. As she makes her way to Elphaba she says hurriedly, "I'm sorry I couldn't get up here sooner. Do you have any idea how many doors I opened before finding you?"

Elphaba shakes her head, still quite unable to string together anything even remotely resembling a sentence. All she wants to do is pull Galinda into her arms. To feel the blonde finally pressed against her knowing nothing hovers between them. So without hesitation that's exactly what Elphaba finds herself doing. Galinda lets out a yelp as the taller woman's body is slammed against hers. Her surprise is quickly replaced with understanding as she feels Elphaba nuzzle her sharp nose alongside her temple. A welcome heat settles in Galinda's stomach as she melts into the embrace, easily wrapping her own arms behind Elphaba's back, hugging the green woman with just as much fervor.

It suddenly dawns on her that prior to arriving at Kiamo Ko, Elphaba was very much still in Morrible's custody. It's what she was hoping to talk with her about before being so quickly brought into the ardent embrace. In fact, the very thought of Elphaba's capture worries her so much that as Elphaba leans down hoping for a kiss Galinda pulls back, causing the green lips to press to her hairline instead.

Elphaba feels a pang of hurt at Galinda's sudden distance. But when she looks down, she quickly sees the reason for it.

Galinda slides her hands down to Elphaba's side, checking for injury. Elphaba winces as Galinda's finger brushes along her blouse, right over her reopened wound.

"Oz, I'm so sorry Elphie!" Galinda says, yanking her hands away all together. Anger flares inside Galinda, knowing the pain flashing across Elphaba's face is of Morrible's doing. She launches into questions, "What did she do? Has she hurt you elsewhere? Because if you're hurt I need to know, Elphie. I swear to you I will kill her if she so much as allowed an _eyelash_ to fall on you! I should have been there to stop this! This is all my fault. I should have never let you stay! What kind of horrible person am I to leave you with a deranged megalomaniac! She could have hurt you! Fuck, she _did_ hurt you! And I wasn't there to _stop her_! And now you're –stop shaking your head at me like that! This isn't funny Elphaba! You're hurt! And no! Don't you dare open your mouth and lie to me about feeling fine. Your side is clearly causing you pain. Is it only here that hurts? How did this happen? Was it while you were getting away? How did you manage that anyway? And what is with the broom? _Since when can you fly?"_

Elphaba merely stares at Galinda, brow raised with surprise and mild amusement. Having finished her long-winded and exceedingly-frantic dialogue, the blonde is panting heavily. She is about to launch into another round, but Elphaba diffuses the situation by capturing the blonde's lips with her own. Galinda whimpers into the kiss, hesitant to touch Elphaba knowing just how badly her side must be paining her.

But Elphaba wants Galinda to touch her. She wants the blonde to know she's all right… better than all right even.

To Elphaba, what Galinda has just done in the courtyard is far more pertinent than her escape from Morrible. Her escape was simply something formed out of will and sheer dumb luck. But for Galinda to face Fiyero, for her to _finally _confront everything that's been escalating so devastatingly inside her for so long… that is far more significant than any amount of pain Elphaba feels she's _ever _endured.

Galinda has officially freed herself from what Elphaba _hopes_ is the last of her lies.

And as such, that leaves Galinda free to love whom she chooses.

Whom she _wants_…

As Galinda lets her arms slide up behind Elphaba's neck, Elphaba can't help but smile into their kiss, knowing Galinda has chosen her. It spurs a streak of boldness in her as she deepens their kiss, letting her tongue slide between Galinda's lips. An electric current shoots down below Galinda's belt at the move. With a tug she pulls Elphaba down, hands tangling in dark hair, lips positively swollen from the frenzy of their kiss.

All too soon, Galinda feels Elphaba gently bring her hands up to cup her face. A small moan escapes from the back of the taller woman's throat as her fingers brush along the skin just under Galinda's ear. The soft touch migrates to their kiss, all the zeal of before replaced by slow brushes of their lips melding together. Galinda doesn't think she's ever been kissed like this. Not ever this softly, this carefully… this, this _thoroughly_. With such care to detail, such tentative study. It's almost as if Elphaba is trying to memorize her. Breathe _life_ into her.

She wonders how Elphaba could have ever gotten so good at something others have left her feeling nothing over. How the green woman can make her feel _this_ wanted _this_ alive.

She never wants to stop.

When it comes to kissing Galinda, Elphaba thinks she'll never tire of the feel of the blonde's lips against her own. They mold so wonderfully to hers, fit so perfectly. With every breath she feels Galinda exhale along her cheek, another shiver rolls down her spine. With every soft press of pink lips against hers, Elphaba feels her heart grow warmer. And yet despite how amazing it feels to be kissing the girl she loves, Elphaba will always worry in some small way that she's doing it all wrong. That Galinda will pull back, aghast by her novice technique. So many others have tasted the lips slipping so deliciously along her own.

Were they better?

Did they make Galinda's knees buckle like Elphaba's are now?

A knock sounds at the door, the noise jarring both girls apart. Their arms are still loosely wrapped around each other, minds reeling from the kiss as Fiyero's servant opens the door and greets both women with a strained smile. Galinda feels a deep blush creep over her cheeks at being caught in such an intimate embrace. By Fiyero's personal manservant no less! She's sure upon the man's return that he will inform Fiyero of the transgressions taking place under his roof. But as Galinda turns, ready to explain, the man simply raises a hand, stopping her before she can even utter a word.

In his hand he holds two letters.

Elphaba lowers her arms from around Galinda as she meets the blonde's equally puzzled gaze.

"Miss Galinda," the servant says, holding the letters out before him. "One is for you, the other for your… companion," he decides with a stiff nod of affirmation to himself. "Master Fiyero would also like you to know that he's had two rooms prepared for your use. So if you'd follow me I have been instructed to escort you there."

Galinda walks forward and receives the letters from the servant with a soft, "thank you."

He bends to pick up the broom and Grimmerie before turning back to the still baffled women. He raises a brow at them, as if silently asking if they are coming.

Elphaba comes up beside Galinda, slipping her hand down the blonde's wrist until their palms press together and their fingers twine. The servant tries to hide his smile, masking it with an expression of unease as he turns and heads down the stairs. Master Fiyero may be sulking in his quarters after losing his fiancée to some oddity of nature, but he has to admit the bond the two women obviously share is something not even Lurline herself could probably ever shake.

Besides, he never much cared for the way Fiyero pined after the pretty blonde anyway. Any woman who looks that good in trousers simply couldn't want for the same in a man. With a smirk he thinks he needs to stop by the kitchens once he drops the two women off. A certain chef owes him quite a payment on that wager.

* * *

><p>The women haven't been in their rooms long before Galinda gently pulls Elphaba inside the nearest washroom and sets about checking the green woman's injured side. It's nearing dawn when she begins to unwrap the soiled bandage from around Elphaba's torso. She knows they need to sleep, morning fast approaching as it is. But Elphaba needs fresh bandages and more importantly the wound needs to be cleaned.<p>

Elphaba sits along the edge of the large clawed tub, Galinda situated on the floor beside her. A single candle burns, near the tub faucet, the light barely casting a glow over Elphaba's bandages. Fiyero's letters lay untouched beside the slowly melting wax.

Elphaba can't seem to keep her eyes from the letter obviously addressed to her in Fiyero's simple script.

She wonders what he could wish to tell her. Are his words hurtful or promising? Does he forgive her for taking Galinda away? Was Galinda ever truly his to begin with? Elphaba shakes those thoughts from her head, berating herself for her poor choice in words. Galinda belongs to _no one_. And she never will. For most of her life Elphaba always felt as if she were her father's property. She never wishes to think of a person as belonging to another. To her people are born innately free, and should remain so their whole lives. Love doesn't change that.

Galinda isn't hers.

Elphaba isn't Galinda's.

They simply share each other. Borrowed hearts, mingled thoughts, unwavering trust, everything, all of it, all of them. Elphaba wants to share everything she can offer with Galinda… everything that is, but the sight of her scared skin. Her shoulders tense as she feels yet another layer of wrap fall from her stomach. The light in the room is dim, but it's enough to see… enough for Galinda to be exposed yet again to something Elphaba hates so much about herself. She remembers feeling so relieved that day in the forest when Galinda didn't so much as flinch at the sight of her torn skin. What's to say the blonde will react the same now?

What if Galinda can't bear to look at her now? What if she decides she doesn't want something so evidently broken?

"Okay," Galinda whispers, as the last of the dirty wrap is slipped from Elphaba's torso. She knows how uncomfortable being so uncovered makes Elphaba, so she keeps her gaze to the dried blood clotted along the girl's green skin. Her eyes study the wound, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. The sutures are ripped, blood leaking even now down Elphaba's side. She'll have to redo them. Elphaba holds her breath as she watches Galinda reach forward to touch the sensitive skin just above the gash. "This needs to be cleaned," she murmurs before sitting back along her heels and looking up at Elphaba through warm eyes. "Take a bath and I'll come back in to fix your side up."

"Wait," Elphaba says before Galinda can stand to her feet. She wants to kiss the blonde, thank her for being so careful. But Elphaba can tell Galinda is lost in her thoughts, so instead she reaches over to the two letters and picks Galinda's up, holding it out for the blonde.

Galinda's expression wavers in the flickering light. A part of her wants nothing more than to read what Fiyero's written… and another wants nothing more than to hold it over the flame. She hesitates in taking the small piece of folded paper from Elphaba's hands until she meets the green girl's encouraging gaze. With a whisper of thanks she takes the letter and she leaves Elphaba alone to have her bath.

The sky is just starting to turn purple along the horizon, the sun soon to breach the land as Galinda closes the wash room door behind her. She sits herself down along the edge of the large bed, simply holding the letter in her lap. There's no use imagining what's inside so with a heavy sigh she breaks the fragile seal and Fiyero's words unfold before her.

_Galinda_,

_Your Mother is safe at my family's apartment in the City. I will send word to her that you are all right. Give me time, but know you always have a home with me. Both of you. Sleep well, my staff will see to you when you wake. Safe journeys._

_Always,  
><em>_- F_

Galinda sits, rereading the letter with a small smile playing across her lips. She doesn't think she deserves the friendship of the man who penned such promising words. He could have so easily thrown them both out the gates and yet here he is, letting them stay in his plush rooms, offering his horses, taking care of her mother… Galinda folds the letter up and stuffs it deep into her trouser pockets. She wishes she could thank him for all that's he's done but she knows he doesn't wish to see her.

It pains her that she's hurt him.

But she knows there was no other way.

* * *

><p>Elphaba's once warm bath water has turned tepid. Fiyero's letter sits open just beside the candle, the words forever ingrained in her head.<p>

_You hold her heart. Treat her well.  
><em>_- Fiyero_

She lets out a groan, closing her eyes as she sinks into the water, submerging her head, hoping to drown her relentless thoughts. Why did he have to go and leave her such a poignant letter? She was much happier thinking of him as nothing more than Galinda's stubborn ex. Now he had to extend his sentiments to her… make her feel terrible for being so cross with him earlier. A stream of bubbles erupts from Elphaba's mouth as she lets out another aggravated moan before surfacing and drawing air deep into her lungs.

She hates that even _now_, with everything said and done between him and Galinda, that he still manages to frustrate her so.

Of course she will treat Galinda well. More than well. Better than he ever could have!

She takes a deep breath, clutching the edge of the tub, realizing her jealously is unfounded. The letter before her is simply that of a heartbroken man. He is announcing his defeat and wish for Galinda's continued wellbeing… her happiness. Elphaba knows she will do all in her power to keep Galinda safe.

And she _hopes_ she makes the blonde happy.

Amidst her thoughts Galinda suddenly knocks gently on the washroom door. Asking for a moment, Elphaba hurries to dry herself. Galinda opens the door but a fraction, holding out for Elphaba a simple pair of men's pajamas. She explains the servant has left them with some fresh clothes. Accepting the items with thanks, Elphaba closes the door once more and slips into the soft materials.

Once dressed, she reopens the door, surprised to find Galinda still in her attire from earlier, eyes tried, in her hands some fresh bandages and a small suture kit.

"Come on," she tells Elphaba as she enters the washroom, stifling a yawn. "Let's get you all fixed up so we can finally pass out."

Elphaba gives a light chuckle as she sits down along the edge of the tub. Galinda plops beside her along the stone floor, tucking some of her hair behind an ear. She busies herself with the small kit, preparing the necessary items. She's had to do this a few times before in class… on dummies. Never on another breathing soul. She's afraid of marring Elphaba's skin more than it already is. How would she feel seeing the scar later, knowing it was her hands that left it so ugly?

She wants to leave Elphaba with as little a mark as possible.

So with utmost focus Galinda brings the readied needle to Elphaba's now exposed side. She tries not to think about how calm Elphaba is, sitting before her, shirt bunched and held just below her breasts. So clearly ready, so trusting. Galinda is about to pierce the needle into Elphaba's side when a voice in her head shouts, _Ointment!_

Galinda fumbles with the needle as she quickly grabs for the swab she'd prepared earlier. She can't believe she forgot such a simple step! _How amateurish_, she berates herself. _Elphaba could have been left wide open to infection_. _All because you can't shake your ridiculous nerves_.

With a stilling breath she presses the wet cloth lightly over the wound.

Elphaba hisses as the liquid stings fiercely along her ruptured skin.

"_Fuck_," Galinda curses, hurriedly tossing the small cloth aside, turning her apologetic eyes up to Elphaba as she tells her in a voice thick with concern, "I'm so sorry, Elphie! I didn't mean for it to hurt you. Are you all right?"

Elphaba smiles through clenched teeth, the burning now subsiding. She knows Galinda is merely trying to help her so she assures the blonde with a few nods of her head, and a gentle squeeze of her hand along her shoulder.

Galinda bites her bottom lip as she focuses once more on the task at hand. She tries to imagine she's sewing a doll and not the skin of the woman she loves. But her hands shake anyway.

"Breathe, my sweet," Elphaba tells her with a light chuckle.

Galinda sighs, looking up at Elphaba. "That's easy for you to say, you're not the one about to hurt someone you lo-" she quickly stops herself before she says too much.

Elphaba feels the hairs along the back of her neck rise at the abrupt halt of Galinda's words. Was the blonde really about to tell her she loved her? What else could she have possibly been meaning to say?

But Elphaba doesn't get a chance to ask Galinda because the blonde quickly sets to work and threads the needle through Elphaba's tender skin. Elphaba clenches her jaw at the pain erupting from her side. She tries to control her stomach muscles from the spasm threatening to roll through her body. Her free hand digs into the metal edge of the tub, the other clutching her shirt tighter between her small breasts. Her eyes squeeze shut as Galinda gently guides the needle back through her skin once more.

Galinda keeps her eyes on the suture even as her heart pumps wildly beneath her ribs.

Elphaba sucks in a sharp breath through her clenched teeth after a particularly painful stitch is redone. Galinda stills the needle in her hands, brow crinkling with anxiety. Elphaba looks down, meeting the blonde's fretful gaze. She gives Galinda a soft, encouraging smile and in return Galinda leans over, pressing a kiss to Elphaba's bare stomach. Elphaba's muscles tighten under the light tough, heat sinking deep into her belly. Galinda pulls away slowly, eyes catching on a singular angry looking scar just above Elphaba's navel. Her fingers reach over, instinctively tracing the raised skin; secretly wishing her touch could erase the mark marring the delicate skin below.

Elphaba has to grip the tub tighter to keep the shudders threatening to roll through her body at bay. Her heart is pounding frantically in her chest, breath held between firmly pressed lips.

When Galinda's lips brush against her stomach once more, wet and lingering, Elphaba lets out the long shaky breath she'd been keeping in for so long. Galinda sits back at the sound, eyes searching for Elphaba's in the dim light. "Did I hurt you?"

Elphaba manages a shake of her head.

"Are you all right?" Galinda asks next.

Elphaba nods, once, twice, five times. "Yes," she breathes.

"I'm sorry for…" Galinda trails off, blushing as she touches a few fingers to her lips.

"It's all right, my sweet," Elphaba tells her softly, recovering finally. She gives the blonde a shy smile. "I'm afraid I'm not quite used to such affection."

Galinda gives one of Elphaba's knees a slight squeeze, smiling as she tells her, "I'll try and keep my lips better controlled next time. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes. I actually _really_ enjoyed it," Elphaba says without hesitation and afterward blushes hard, gasping as she realizes what she's just confessed. _The truth serum_, she thinks. It's still in her system. She lets out a groan, head dipping forward as her damp hair falls to cover her flushed cheeks. "You didn't hear that," she mutters, thoroughly embarrassed.

Galinda gives a chuckle as she reaches up, brushing some of Elphaba's long hair behind an ear. "I'm happy I did. Don't be ashamed."

Elphaba sighs as she sits back up along the tub and Galinda resumes stitching her side. "You wouldn't have heard it if –ack! – Morrible hadn't forced her truth serum on me."

"She did _what_?" Galinda asks, horrified.

Elphaba stills Galinda's suddenly trembling hands before the blonde punctures her by accident. "I'm okay," she tells her softly. The truth of her words settle under Galinda's skin and she allows her fingers to relax. Elphaba lets her free hand slide from Galinda's and back to the tub edge as the blonde focuses once more on the finishing the sutures.

Galinda hates that Morrible forced the concoction upon Elphaba. What else could the woman have done to her? And what more, "what did she ask you?"

Elphaba tells her of what transpired inside the deserted dressmakers shop. And when she's finished, Galinda is staring up at her with her mouth agape. Absolutely overwhelmed and astonished. She can't believe the lengths Morrible went to pry even the simplest of answers from Elphaba. Yet she's proud of how well Elphaba stood up to the woman. And the magic! She thinks of how powerful the spells contained in that book must be if Morrible coveted it so. And the Monkey? Chistery, was it? Was he the same Monkey from her office? But why keep him?

She's glad Elphaba set him free, regardless; shamed she never thought to do the same at Kellswater. _Of course she would free him_, Galinda thinks. Elphaba always thinks of others first.

And for Elphaba to understand the ancient language of spells, and not just understand it but use it so _easily_.

Galinda knows now Elphaba is in far more danger than she ever was before.

Morrible will stop at nothing to regain her property.

And what more, regain control of Elphaba.

Because with Elphaba, Morrible finally has the one thing she's always wanted.

Power. Seemingly limitless power.

Instead of sharing her fears with the green woman, Galinda simply presses another kiss to Elphaba's bare stomach, hoping to ease Elphaba's pain and settle her clearly troubled mind. The simple gesture calms them both. For now all Galinda wants to think about is finishing her work along Elphaba's side. Afterward she thinks she's due for a bath.

And after that, if she can convince Elphaba, perhaps sharing a bed for what's left of the night.

She doesn't want to worry about what they will face tomorrow when they leave. She hasn't thought about where they'll go, what must now be done, or even how to go about fixing everything.

_Perhaps it's not fixable_, Galinda thinks to herself. She can't simply patch up all the holes as easily as she stitches Elphaba's side. It would be so easy to just run off into the forest together and never return. But what of Oz? What of the citizens who blindly follow a man so unfit to lead its unbelievable no one has thought to question him before? They deserve to know the truth, no matter how fickle minded they may be.

Galinda promises to herself she will get Elphaba's research to the people of Oz. All the pain Elphaba's had to endure over the years will not have been in vain.

And when the truth falls and the Ozian's eyes are opened, she will step aside and leave the Wizard's fate to them.

Galinda is done with vengeance.

She is done with everything she's ever forced herself to be.

And if anyone thinks they can stand in her way, let alone try and _hurt_ Elphaba… well she won't mind seeing to it that they don't stand for much longer.

Because if there's one thing Galinda isn't going to leave behind it's her ruthless ability to fight.

And she _always_ wins.


	17. Green is Many Things

**Chapter 17  
><strong>

_Green is Many Things_

Elphaba wakes up alone the next afternoon with a dull ache pulsing in her side. She resists the urge to scratch at her bandage, knowing how upset Galinda would be if she did.

A small smile pulls at her lips at the thought of the fiery blonde. With her eyes still closed against the warm sun that beats through the open curtains, Elphaba tries to grasp onto the fading remnants of her dreams. It seemed even in sleep that Galinda filled her every thought.

She remembers how tender Galinda was late last night. So careful with the sutures. Even as she wrapped fresh bandages over the stitched wound, she kept checking Elphaba's comfort level. A level which quickly dropped when Galinda asked if they could share a bed. The soldier was so adamant they did if only so she could, as she put it, "make sure no one tried anything." What Galinda could have been imaging someone would do, Elphaba hadn't the faintest idea. For as soon as Galinda said those words she could only imagine things _the blonde_ could have tried instead. Her imagination took over after that. She blushes now just thinking back on the last wisps of her dream.

The ache moves from her side, now settling just below her navel.

Elphaba groans and rolls over, wincing as her bandages pull along her skin. She buries her face into one of the many pillows, willing for the heat spreading over her cheeks to subside.

She loves Galinda, of that she is sure.

But she's not quite ready to deal with _all _that encompasses.

Especially given how obvious Galinda's intentions are.

"_I'm hopeless_," Elphaba mutters to herself, voice muffled by the plush pillow.

Never in all her life did she think she'd be in such a situation. It's welcome, even if also terrifying. She wonders why none of the novels she's ever read mentioned this dread. How is it everyone falls so easily in love and in bed the next moment without anyone involved so much as batting an eye? Is that how it works for everyone else? For Galinda?

The blonde certainly holds no qualms when it comes to sex.

But did she even _love_ anyone she slept with?

Of the three people Elphaba knows Galinda has lain with – though she is seriously trying to forget the incident at the Scrow camp ever happened – she also knows the blonde was never in love with any of them. But what of the ones who came before? Who else has Galinda been with?

Again Elphaba lets out a long exasperated groan as she shakes her head against the pillow and allows her body to slump pitifully along the mattress.

Why is sex so easy for Galinda when the very mention of the word sends Elphaba's entire body buzzing and itching for the nearest exit? Could the blonde really have such little regard for herself? She can't imagine Galinda feeling insecure and needing that validation. If anything Galinda is the very definition of confidence.

Pompously so.

So why would she bother sleeping around with so many people? Were there even really that many? _Cease this_, Elphaba thinks as jealously takes hold of her heart. But her silent pleas do little to stop her mind from traitorously replaying flashes of that drunken night in at Scrow camp. Galinda sure seemed to have _enjoyed_ her tryst with that stranger. Elphaba clenches her fists into the bed sheet. Was it just about pleasure then? Did Galinda only engage in sex to quench her own selfish desires?

Did she ever stop to think what her actions could lead to? What if she had fallen ill? Or worse, what if she had gotten pregnant? Did the blonde ever stop to think of those consequences when someone was making her squirm beneath their-

"Elphie?"

Elphaba gasps, face still very much planted firmly in the pillow. Her cheeks burn as she debates whether to turn and face Galinda or not. She hadn't even heard the blonde come in! _Of course you wouldn't_, she chastises herself. _She's trained to be unnoticed!_ Now Elphaba regrets having insisted on sleeping in separate rooms. This entire embarrassing ordeal could very well have been avoided in lieu of other… _Oz_, Elphaba sighs with a roll of her eyes, _as if the other option would have been _less_ embarrassing_. _No_, she thinks. This is definitely the lesser of the two evils.

She still doesn't quite know how she finally convinced Galinda to return to her own room. The entire morning was such a blur of raw emotions.

Galinda can't help but repress the laughter wanting to spill from her lips at the state she's discovered Elphaba in. Something the green woman dreamed about has obviously left her mortified. Or more aptly, _someone_. Galinda peeked in at least a dozen or so times today to find Elphaba sound asleep, curled under the sheets. Galinda was not able to garner much sleep herself after taking a bath once she left Elphaba earlier. Her mind just couldn't seem to shut off and to finally stop her ever pressing thoughts she set about plotting their next move. Plotting and doing the occasional check on the green woman, _just to make sure she was all right_. Often times her checks turned into minutes spent just watching the woman sleep.

She wanted so much to just slip in beside her and succumb to the same peace.

But she always stopped herself before she could act upon that innocent desire.

This was still Fiyero's home.

Oz forbid he decide to peek in and find them wrapped in each other's arms.

He'd given them separate rooms for a reason and she didn't want to hurt him further.

Knowing so still doesn't quell the same urge in her now. Even though Elphaba is no longer snoozing comfortably she still wants to hold her. Galinda was quite surprised upon entering the bedroom to find Elphaba engaged in what was apparently an internal argument with herself. _And losing quite spectacularly at that_, she muses. The green woman is an absolute tense lump of flushed skin that seems to be doing a very successful job of being eaten by the copious pillows on the bed.

"Elphie," Galinda says again, this time with far more amusement coating her tone. Elphaba feels Galinda place a hand just between her shoulder blades. Her muscles twitch of their own accord at the touch. Galinda lets out a giggle at Elphaba's reaction. She's quite sure the green woman is avoiding looking at her on purpose. Galinda's mind spins dirty thoughts as to what that purpose could be. She kneels beside the bed and lowers her mouth to Elphaba's ear, brushing some dark hair over the woman's shoulder, as she whispers, "you know, if you'd have let me stay with you I could have helped ease some of this… _tension_."

Elphaba gulps thickly, turning her head slightly so as to allow one eye to glance over at the now smirking blonde. At the anxiety clearly evident in that brown eye, Galinda's smirk slips, replaced by a soft smile.

"I'm kidding, Elphie," she says with a light chuckle, dropping her chin down onto her arms neatly-folded atop the mattress. Galinda stares at the woman still lying face down in front of her. She can plainly see a darker green hue staining Elphaba's cheeks. She finds the blush adorable. She wishes she could have woken up beside the green woman instead of tossing and turning alone as she did in the room next door. But she could also hear the fear in Elphaba's voice the night prior when she'd asked if it was all right for them to remain apart. She didn't want to push Elphaba. It's just that sleeping near the green woman is something she's become accustomed to.

Something she enjoys.

Oz, honestly, all she wanted to do was sleep knowing Elphaba was safe beside her.

If some cuddling occurred whilst said sleeping did than all the better. She could always feign innocence and blame her wandering hands come morning. Though if she's completely honest with herself Galinda knows she would just fess up to wanting to hold the green woman. She's never been one for sharing beds and even more opposed to snuggling. Why is it that others' bodies were always so suffocatingly hot? Two minutes and she would be kicking her bed partner away or simply leaving to the confines of her own cool sheets instead.

Galinda thinks Elphaba is different. No, she knows she is. Even when Elphaba's body was straining itself to maintain warmth for them both in Morrible's blizzard, Galinda never once felt uncomfortable pressed against her. Galinda imagines she would have felt the same last night. Comfortable and warm. Perfectly content not to move. Happy, for once, to be tangled with another.

"You're being very quiet," Elphaba whispers, not wanting to jar the blonde from the thoughts that make her smile so. When Galinda's eyes refocus on her own, and the smile upon her lips turns from lazy to brilliant it's all the encouragement Elphaba needs to finally face the blonde.

"Ah, _there_ you are," Galinda says as she picks her head up from her arms and leans over to press a lopsided kiss to Elphaba's lips. It's chaste, simple and yet spurs flutters in each woman's stomach. Galinda pulls away, resisting her urge to simply crawl over Elphaba and take things a little further. She resettles her chin along her arms and tells Elphaba, voice betraying her desire, "are you feeling all right?"

Elphaba doesn't think it's possible to ask someone a simple question like that in such a tone. And yet here Galinda is doing just that. Elphaba has to shift along the bed to hide the way her body shudders at the blonde's husky voice.

Galinda mistakes the move for discomfort, frown pulling at her mouth. She reaches over to pull the blanket away from Elphaba's side in order to check on her wound, but Elphaba quickly takes a hold of the blonde's hand, pressing their twined fingers back down to the mattress.

Galinda quirks a brow in question, worried.

"I'm fine," Elphaba assures her. She sits up in the bed, hand still clasped with Galinda's. When Galinda squints at her, Elphaba chuckles. "I swear, I feel great. I promise."

"If you're sure," Galinda says, still skeptical but willing to trust Elphaba all the same.

"Positive," Elphaba nods. She gives Galinda a smile. As Elphaba looks at the blonde she notices Galinda is still wearing the same clothes from the previous night… only cleaner.

"Oh!" Galinda picks up on Elphaba's inquisitive appraisal of her blouse. "The house staff had our things laundered," she explains, then motions across the room. "I set yours on the dresser there along with some black trousers. They're easier for riding in, trust me. Get dressed and we'll head out to the horses."

Before Galinda can fully leave the bed Elphaba pulls her back. "Horses?" she asks with a furrowed brow.

Galinda smirks, amusement dancing once more in her eyes. "You know, those things for riding upon? Proclivity for apples…. go neigh?"

Elphaba lets out a groan as she shoves Galinda playfully from the bed. "I'm a shut-in remember? Not an idiot," she says with a chuckle. "I just meant to ask, why take horses when we could just as easily _fly_?"

Galinda's eyes flit to the corner of the room uneasily, falling upon Elphaba's broom against the far wall. "Not to belittle your obvious magical prowess or anything Elphaba," she says as she turns back to the green woman. "But I'd rather my chances with a horde of Undead than on that enchanted contraption."

Elphaba smirks this time, "It's a broom my sweet, you know, those things for sweeping floors? Proclivity for saving green woman's lives…. Go whoosh?"

Galinda stares back at Elphaba, utterly unamused, even as Elphaba lets out a loud laugh. A cackle more like it, she thinks. "Are you quite done yet? Think yourself so clever now?"

"Quite," Elphaba manages to say between her subsiding chuckles.

"I'm still not getting on that thing," Galinda tells her adamantly. "I saw the way you handled it as you _crashed_ into Fiyero. Oz, Elphie! I about _died_ seeing you up so high! I mean, brava, for sure, for hitting your target but you were swerving out of control beforehand! How about we just stick to horses and whenever they need a bit of a break you can practice flying about on that clearly insecure thing? From a _reasonable_ height."

"I don't know Galinda, your opinion of reasonable is a bit," Elphaba trails off with a devious smile, "_stunted_, don't you think?"

Galinda doesn't get the chance to retaliate though as Elphaba silences her with a heated kiss.

* * *

><p>Galinda doesn't know how their rather enjoyable start to the day has led to the quiet that now encompasses them. The last question Elphaba asked her as they left Kiamo Ko was where they were headed and she had simply replied; "The Emerald City." It was the truth after all, and she had expected a 'why' to follow. But none was forthcoming, nor did it seem one ever would be uttered by the quiet green woman.<p>

Elphaba didn't have to ask to know why Galinda wanted to return to that dreadful city. Her research bag may no longer be pressing into her back but she still feels the burden of the truth it holds placed upon her shoulders. She's not sure if it's worth it to return. Why risk everything just to defame the Wizard? She can't lose Galinda, not now that they've truly found one another.

Not the only soul on Oz who cares for her.

But even Elphaba knows she will never be able to convince Galinda from the path she's now chosen. From the path she's so obviously plotted on that map she pours over every so often. No amount of words or actions will deter the soldier from her new mission. And if Elphaba is honest with herself, a part of her is very much marching right beside the blonde's ambition.

And maybe, just maybe they can change the mind of one person. And that person can change the mind of another and before the Wizard knows it everyone will know of the truth of his deceit. Dillamond believed in her research but he stole it first. He willingly read everything. He _wanted_ to know. How would they get someone else to even bother listening? Let alone to even bother believing the word of two fugitives; one clearly green as the Verdigris while the other threatens pain with a dagger?

It's impossible.

Elphaba can't help as an imperceptible smile pulls at her lips as she recalls they've already done the impossible. They've done it a great number of times.

They can do this too.

Hopefully better than she rides a horse anyway.

They've been riding – thankfully upon horses and not crazy enchanted brooms, Galinda muses – for a few hours now. The blonde dutifully holds the map she found earlier tucked inside one of the saddlebags. She spent a better part of the day plotting their journey back to the Emerald City along the worn sheet of parchment. When she first found it she was instantly reminded of Fiyero. The map once belonged to him at Academy. She remembers vividly how he would mark it up during breakfast with news of Undead movements across Oz. Galinda is thankful for his thoroughness. The journey may be long but at least she knows they will be steering clear of the more heavily stricken zones.

But for the past few hours it's not the journey that has been occupying her mind. Nor the Undead. No. It's a spot on the map that causes her heart to twist and her stomach to churn every time her eyes pass over the coordinates.

Their path will be taking them straight through what remains of the refugee camp where her father died. Galinda doesn't know how to avoid the area, not without encroaching in zones Fiyero has marked as dangerous. She cannot bear the thought of leading Elphaba into peril. Especially because of something she should be over by now. They'll have to go through the camp, and Galinda hopes it'll be like ripping off a bandage. A brief, fleeting moment of a sting followed by a tender ache and if she's lucky numbness once again. They can quickly move on and hopefully the hole burning itself into her heart will cease to pain her so. She doesn't want to have to burden Elphaba with her past. Especially when the green woman has already suffered through one so horrible.

Galinda lets out a sigh. She wishes she'd taken up Elphaba's offer of riding upon the broom instead.

She'd give anything not to have to return to the place where her father's ashes coat the ground.

Elphaba trots up beside her then, swaying a bit in her saddle before regaining balance. The look of concern fixed upon her face pulls Galinda from her disheartening thoughts. "All right, my sweet?" Elphaba asks.

Galinda nods, giving Elphaba a small smile as she guides her horse to walk closely alongside the black stallion Elphaba rides atop. She finds it fitting that the green woman picked him of the two. The horse almost seemed drawn to Elphaba the moment she gently laid a hand upon his long nose. Even now as she sits so wobbly-legged on his back, he seems to sense her unease, adjusting his strides to keep her in place. Galinda pockets the map into her saddlebag before reaching out and patting the horse's neck affectionately.

"I think I'm the one you're supposed to be reassuring here," Elphaba says with a chuckle.

Galinda makes a show of cooing at the green woman as she pats her thigh affectionately as well. Elphaba nearly topples off the horse at the light touch, arms flailing as she tries to stay balanced. Galinda puts a steadying hand to Elphaba's back, trying her best not to laugh as the green woman pants heavily, clinging to the reins.

"I think that, along with some _obvious_ riding lessons," Galinda says, smiling at Elphaba who gives a grunt in return. "We should use this extra time to get you more comfortable with that bow."

Elphaba doesn't have to turn around to know Galinda is talking about the bow tied to the back of her horse's saddlebag beside her broom. She figured the spare could be useful in the event that Galinda's own were lost or damaged. But the blonde can't surely expect her to actually… use it?

Elphaba shakes her head. "I don't think I'll ever be comfortable shooting something, my sweet."

Galinda flushes at the nickname, _again_. She wonders if she'll ever stop acting like such a schoolgirl when she hears it. She clears her throat, hoping the heat settling along her cheeks dissipates as quickly as it was brought on. "The Undead aren't going away anytime soon. And in the event I'm not around to keep you safe I'd rest easier knowing you can at least fire an arrow."

Elphaba mulls Galinda's words over. She's not the least bit surprised by the blonde's insistent tone. Galinda's has always been stubborn to get her way. It's one of the things Elphaba loves about her. But what causes her pause is that Galinda would fret over her safety otherwise. Elphaba thinks she understands why Galinda was so reluctant to leave her side last night. Especially given Fiyero's downright disdain. She just wanted to keep her safe.

Elphaba only wants the same for Galinda in return. And if learning to shoot an arrow will appease the blonde's anxiety, then Elphaba is willing to try.

But not without something equally life-saving in return.

She gives Galinda a smile, "if I agree will you agree to fly with me?"

"Ugh! You're not going to give that thing up are you? Ok fine, _one_ ride. Deal?"

"Deal."

* * *

><p>They travel late into the night until Elphaba notices Galinda's eyes growing heavy. Despite her tiredness, she was steadfast they not stop, not yet. Not after waking so late.<p>

Elphaba is pretty sure, given the obvious bags forming under the blonde's eyes, that Galinda did very little sleeping. Giving a small tug of the reins as Galinda instructed her earlier, she guides her horse close to Galinda's spotted brown mare.

"Very nice, Elphie," Galinda praises, her voice sounding far-off. She rubs a hand over her neck, smothering a yawn as she turns her head away from Elphaba.

"I saw that," Elphaba tells her quietly. "We really should stop. You need to rest, Galinda."

"We haven't even made it to our camp point yet," Galinda replies as she pulls the map out once more. "We're still way off. Those riding lessons set us back quite some time. See?"

Elphaba looks to the map but can't make sense of all the marks and lines scribbled over the cartographer's ink below. She lays a hand gently over one of Galinda's, lowering the map back to the blonde's lap. "You sleep then, I'll keep watch tonight and first thing come dawn we can be on our way again."

"Elphie," Galinda says, hoping not to sound as whiny as she imagines she must.

Elphaba pulls back on her reins, stopping her horse as well as Galinda's. She stares over at the blonde, unwavering in her decision.

Galinda sighs, "Okay, but just a few hours!"

Elphaba smiles, "that's all I am asking."

They set up a small camp, the horses tethered to long stakes they've drove in the tall Vinkus grass. Elphaba wants to pull some of the grass up for the horses to eat but Galinda assures her they will do well on their own. She finds Elphaba's concern for the animals cute. But before she can voice that thought, sleep overtakes her as her head comes to rest along the bedroll Elphaba laid out for her. She vaguely feels a blanket being draped over her body before all conscious thought ceases to be.

Elphaba sits back in the grass, watching Galinda sleep. She wishes the blonde always looked this peaceful. It seems Galinda's brow was always furrowed with worry, small wrinkles creasing her forehead. But now, in sleep, where the worries of the day cease to plague her, the blonde's face is relaxed, calm. Mind finally free of all that plagues her conscious thought. She wishes her fresh dreams.

In the distance a howl echoes into the night. Despite the comfort she feels in the warm Vinkus air, Elphaba shivers at the sound. Her horse gives a soft whinny, shaking his great mane of hair as he stomps his front hoof along the ground. Elphaba stands to her feet, stealing a glance at Galinda before heading over to calm her stallion.

Galinda's horse tugs on his tether as Elphaba strokes down the nose of her own. "Easy now," she whispers, giving a gentle tug on the brown horses' reins. Elphaba is thankful for the full moon, the light bright enough for her to clearly see both horses panicked black eyes. They calm at her touch and let out small snorts that tickle the exposed skin along her arms.

Another howl, this time closer. Both horses jerk away from Elphaba, neighing loudly as they strain against their tethers.

"Wha'?" Galinda sits upright, sleep still coating her voice as she gives her head a quick shake. Her eyes land on Elphaba who is still struggling to compose the horses. Galinda is up in an instant.

"Wolves," Elphaba says quickly by way of explanation when Galinda jogs over.

Galinda nods, taking over for Elphaba as she nods back to their camp. "Can you get our things? We'll move elsewhere."

Tired and restless, Galinda leads them further into the valley. This time after they make camp the wolves appear. Galinda is quick to down one with a toss of her dagger. The others scurry into the night.

Not trusting them to stay away, Galinda helps Elphaba to pack up their things again, hoping this time the wolves don't follow the clearly dangerous prey they seem to be stalking.

Again the wolves attack. And again Galinda protects their camp, killing another three with arrows.

On the fourth attack Galinda sprints out after their retreating backs in a fit of absolute rage. She's beyond tired now, and the sun is sure to rise soon. She's running on such little sleep that she's sure if the wolves were to return she'd hallucinate at least a dozen more. When Elphaba asks if she is all right, Galinda's wild eyes are all the confirmation Elphaba needs to know the blonde is anything but.

She promises to herself to practice archery the second she's able to.

* * *

><p>They've given up riding their horses after Galinda was painfully thrown from hers after the last wolf attack. The blonde's eyes keep fluttering shut as she limps over the ground, Elphaba casting worried glances her way after nearly every step forward they take. The blonde needs to rest. She needs sleep more than anything. But Galinda is adamant they press forward. So Elphaba holds tight to Galinda's hand, hoping to steady the blonde's uneasy footing as they tread through the dead grassland.<p>

Behind them their horses walk in relatively calm silence. It's been hours since they last saw the pack of wolves. It's not until well into the morning that the girls, now thoroughly exhausted, come across a reprieve in their journey. Ahead, just along the fringe of a small forest, lies a ramshackle little town surrounded by an even more dilapidated fence. The only sign of life are a few plumes of smoke rising slowly into the blue sky above.

Galinda slumps against Elphaba at the sight. The green woman holds her ground, arms wrapping securely around the blonde's shoulders. Elphaba is willing to carry Galinda if she has to. She's just about to scoop the soldier into her arms when Galinda rights herself once more. She gives Elphaba a shaky, half lucid smile as she tugs on her hand and walks forward.

Elphaba is careful to pull down on her sleeves and wrap her head with a dark purple shawl Galinda found earlier in the castle for her. It shrouds her face completely from view. She's just finished slipping on her gloves when she spots a few silhouettes heading their way.

Three men.

Heavily armed.

She gulps and tightens her hold on Galinda's hand.

The men come into view as they approach closer, yet wisely keep their distance. Elphaba can see one of them seems shorter than the others. Shorter and far more anxious. His rifle is practically shaking in his unsteady grip.

"You there!" one of the men shouts as they stop a few yards off. "What is your business here?"

"This is just like _Mottica_," Galinda mutters under her breath.

"We're simple travelers!" Elphaba answers, hoping her voice sounds as assured as she is feigning it to be. "My friend is in need of rest; please, if you could be so kind as to open your gates for us? We mean no harm!"

The men say nothing, the shorter turning to speak in a hushed voice with the others. After what feels like a small eternity the short man, a munchkin perhaps, slings his rifle over his back and smiles over towards the two women. He gives a mighty wave of his hand.

"Come along then!" he says as he steps forward to greet them. He jogs up, eyes widening at the horrifying state of Galinda's appearance. "Is she all right?" he asks Elphaba, equally surprised to find her face hidden from view. "Are _you_ all right?"

"I'm getting over a nasty ailment I'm afraid," Elphaba says, adding a few coughs to the end of her sentence. "I know how easy it is to fall ill out here and don't wish to spread anything to your families."

The munchkin smiles, nodding in appreciation. "We don't really get many travelers way out here and when we do they certainly aren't so thoughtful. Please, you can both stay with my wife and I. I'm afraid it's a bit cramped what with two toddlers and a child on the way but it's the least I can offer. Chivalry isn't dead you know! You'll tell my wife I said so right?"

Elphaba chuckles at the small man, giving a nod as she allows his other two companions to see to their horses. The munchkin motions for the girls to follow him.

"I'm Boq, by the way," he says, stealing glances over his shoulder to make sure they are keeping up.

"El-" Elphaba stops herself suddenly, hoping to correct her mistake but Boq just smiles.

"Nice to meet you El," he says. "And your friend?"

"Milla," Elphaba quickly supplies, Galinda clearly sagging against her side.

"Really?" Boq asks, beaming. "That's my wife's name!"

Elphaba doesn't quite know why Galinda stiffens in her arms at the confession but all is answered as soon as they enter the gates to the shabby town. For as they come to a stop their eyes are instantly pulled ahead where in front of one of the tiny homes stands a heavily pregnant and very bewildered looking brunette.

"Galinda?" the woman asks with a gasp.

Galinda's eyes finally roll to the back of her head, her body shutting down. Elphaba scoops the light blonde into her arms, worried yet relieved that Galinda has finally succumb to the sleep her body so obviously needs.

The brunette rushes forward, waddling under her enormous belly.

"Galinda?" Boq repeats, confused. "But she's said her name was Milla."

"Of course she'd say that!" Milla exclaims, slapping at his shoulder. "Why would she tell a complete stranger her real name?" she counters as she finally reaches the sleeping blonde and brushes some hair from Galinda's face. Elphaba feels a spike of jealously flair in her gut at the familiar touch the shorter woman displays. Who is the brunette? How does Galinda know her? They clearly have a past if she uses the woman's name as her alibi.

And what more, no one seems to have batted an eye upon hearing the blonde's true name.

Do these people even know what happened in the Emerald City?

Milla looks over to Elphaba, squinting in question up into her concealed face. "What happened, and more importantly, _who_ are you?"

"This is El," Boq tells her. Milla gives her husband a strained smile. "Oh… that's probably fake too right?"

"It's Elphaba," she says as she readjusts Galinda to fit more snuggly in her arms. "I'm sorry I wasn't honest before, but you must understand my hesitance given the times. As for what happened, we've been up all night trying to stay away from a pack of wolves."

Milla sighs. "We traded in Undead for wolves out here I'm afraid. Come on, come inside, let's get her someplace comfortable where she can sleep."

Elphaba follows Milla into their modest home. Two young boys hide behind the kitchen table as she enters, eyes wide as they watch Elphaba carry Galinda over to the old sofa against the far wall. Elphaba gently lowers Galinda down into the cushions, tucking the blonde's legs into a comfortable position. She wants to reach out and brush her gloved fingers over Galinda's pale cheek but knows Milla is watching her curiously from behind.

Elphaba turns to face the pregnant woman, not at all surprised to find the brunette watching her through skeptical eyes with arms crossed firmly over her chest. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions," Elphaba says.

"Too many, actually," Milla replies, sounding far less hostile than Elphaba imaged she would.

Boq sneaks in, gathering the boys as he makes a quick excuse and takes them outside.

Milla smiles after him before giving a sigh and plopping herself down into one of the crudely hand carved chairs around the table. She stares at Galinda, eyes unfocused. "I never thought I'd see her again, you know. After the fire and her father's death she just… she wasn't the same. The last I heard she and her mother left with some Gale Force troop."

Elphaba can't believe what she's hearing. She realizes now how little about Galinda she truly knows. The blonde lost her father. Was it in a fire like the one she lost Nanny to? What was Galinda like before? _Who_ was she before?

"But I'm sure you know all this already," Milla says, interrupting Elphaba's thoughts as she half-smiles over toward the green woman.

"I don't," Elphaba says quietly, the absolute truth behind her words causing her to sink down to the floor beside the sleeping blonde.

"Oh," Milla says equally as soft. She feels a pang of sympathy for the sullen-looking girl slumped on her floor. If she didn't know any better she could swear the strange woman has feelings for her friend. It wouldn't have been the first time Galinda had relations with another woman. Nor does it surprise her now. And if Galinda's previous taste in partners is any indication of her current one, then she doesn't understand why the woman is covered so. "Forgive me for prying but may I ask why you're so wrapped?"

"Contagious… viral nasopharyngitis," Elphaba tells her, hoping Milla does not question the term she pulled from memory. "I don't want to spread it to anyone. Especially ones you young."

Milla seems confused at the term but gives a nod in acceptance. Perhaps the strange woman was a medic at one point? If anything she thinks, this girl has far better manners than anyone Galinda has ever fooled around with. Her eyes take in the sleeping woman, the clothing finally clicking in her head. "She's a Gale Forcer?"

"Oh, these aren't hers. We've had to-" Elphaba cuts herself short, not wanting to divulge more of their journey to this stranger. Instead she answers the question posed. "No, she's not in the force. She went to Academy is all," she explains. A smile tugs to her lips as she says in a voice mimicking the blonde's. "Graduated top of her class!"

Milla laughs, "she would have."

"How do you two know each other?" Elphaba can't help herself as she asks the question she's been meaning to since she witnessed Milla brushing back Galinda's hair.

Milla smiles fondly. "We were friends is all, barely at that, if that is what you're wondering. Though I assume _this_ would give that away," she says with a chuckle, rubbing at her swollen belly. Elphaba is thankful for the shawl for she's sure her blush would have otherwise given her feelings for the blonde away. "We spent the better part of our teens at a refugee camp not far from here actually. But I'll leave the rest of the story for Galinda to tell you."

_If she ever does_, Elphaba sighs to herself.

"What about you?" Milla asks.

Elphaba seriously considers telling Milla the truth, but she also doesn't want to burden the woman's mind with her own troubles. So she gives a small smile and tells her, "we met at Academy."

And Milla nods, accepting it simply as the truth.

* * *

><p>Galinda wakes the next day, sore yet very much rested. She stretches along the sofa before tensing and sitting bolt upright. The smell of tea hits her senses, her eyes immediately landing on the tiny kitchen ahead of her. She stands to shaky feet, groaning as her back cracks.<p>

"You're up!" Milla beams, coming into view holding a steaming cup. Galinda's eyes widen as Milla – whom Galinda has just realized is pregnant – waddles over and hands the cup to her. Galinda takes it from her friend's trembling hands, attributing the shakes to the nerves Milla must be feeling about seeing Galinda after all this time. "How are you feeling?"

Yet the brunette seems anything but phased by the sudden reappearance of her teenage cohort.

"Like I was run over by a horde- you're pregnant?" Galinda exclaims, eyes glued to the woman's large stomach.

Milla grins. "Surprised? You know all I ever wanted was to start a family with a _respectable_ man."

Galinda takes a sip of the tea, trying to not cringe at the bitter taste as she smiles in thanks over the rim at Milla. "I've known plenty of respectable men."

"Oh, I'm _sure_," Milla smirks.

Galinda rolls her eyes as she sits back down along the sofa. She still can't quite believe Milla is alive, and not just alive but thriving with a family to boot. Yet for the life of her Galinda can't imagine why Milla has welcomed her into her home. Hadn't they last parted on horrible terms? How is it Milla is treating her with such kindness after Galinda showed her nothing but disregard and apathy for so long?

As if sensing her thoughts, Milla reaches forward and squeezes Galinda's wrist gently. "Don't beat yourself up over the past. We were all a bunch of silly girls back then."

"I was the stupidest of all," Galinda admits with a self-deprecating grin. "I'm sorry for being such a… such a…"

"Bitch?" Milla offers with a smirk.

Galinda laughs. "I was going to say fool but bitch works equally well." She's happy to see Milla, even given the circumstances they now find themselves in. And speaking of those circumstances… "Where's my friend?"

Milla smiles knowingly at the lighter tone the blonde's voice has just taken on. She nods toward the window behind them. Galinda looks out, surprised to see Elphaba playing with the two boys in the back garden. _Though not surprised, really_, she thinks. Of course Elphaba would be good with children. How could someone so sweet not be? But what does surprise her is what they are playing with. The bow. Galinda quirks an eyebrow as she watches Elphaba hold it up, miming to launch an arrow.

"They've taken quite a liking to her," Milla explains softly.

"I bet," Galinda replies.

The two are silent for a moment until Milla lets out a strangled cry.

"Oz, Galinda, I'm so glad you're okay!" Milla exclaims, teary-eyed as she leans over and wraps the blonde in a fierce hug before Galinda even realizes what's happening. Galinda awkwardly pats Milla on the back, feeling uncomfortable with the woman's belly pressing into her as it is. Milla holds her, laughing. "What is that? A proper hug or I swear I'm not letting go."

Galinda relents, shaking her head with a smile as she hugs Milla back.

"Ack," Milla hisses, when Galinda's arm presses against a wound hidden beneath the sleeve of her dress.

Galinda pulls away, gaze rooted to Milla's arm. "Are you hurt?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Milla assures her hurriedly, smothering down the sleeve to her dress. "Just a small scratch is all. The boys do get quite rough sometimes," she giggles.

Galinda can't imagine the boys sitting so thoroughly engrossed outside by whatever Elphaba is telling them to be the type to play rough with their mother. Let alone their very pregnant mother. Where is the father anyway?

"Your husband?" Galinda decides to finally ask as she picks her tea up once more. Milla brings her some bread from the lone pantry.

"Oh, he's out hunting with some of the other men," Milla says with a roll of her eyes. "If you ask me it's a waste of time. He's not exactly the… rugged type."

"I take it that's his garden out back then?"

Milla looks over to Galinda, surprised. "Yes, how'd you know?"

"You couldn't keep the grass in front your tent alive let alone expect me to believe you can keep vegetables thriving?" Galinda smirks.

Milla gives an indignant huff, swatting at Galinda's arm. "You haven't changed a bit."

"Oh trust me, I very much have," Galinda tells her with a warm smile.

It's fitting on the blonde, Milla thinks, seeing her this content. She doesn't ever remember seeing Galinda so relaxed. So at ease with herself. "You have. I like this new you."

"Me too," Galinda admits, almost shyly. She wants to go out and see Elphaba but Milla plops her large self down beside Galinda on the sofa and demands to hear what she's missed in the blonde's life. Knowing better than to argue with a hormonal pregnant woman, Galinda leans back against the stiff cushions and gives Milla a brief, and highly edited, account of her life thus far.

And in return Galinda learns of how Milla and some other families from the camp fled after another horde converged. She met Boq by chance; the munchkin was hiding out up in some trees to escape the wolves that had been chasing him. He'd fled north from Munchkinland with his family after hearing news of Undead-free lands in Upper Gillikin. Galinda lets out a sigh at that point. All anyone ever hears, no matter where they are in Oz, is that things are better elsewhere. They never are. It's all the same, everywhere.

Milla tells Galinda how she found him funny, if a bit short and useless at first. But she grew to love him. They married and settled here on the opposite side of the Vinkus river, far from the Undead that plagued them back in the open grasslands. Now she awaits the arrival of their third child – one she prays is a girl – that should be showing her face any day now.

"But you don't want to hear about a pregnant woman's woes. So tell me. What then brings _you _out here?" Milla asks once she's finished her story, fidgeting in her seat a bit. She clasps her hands firmly in her lap to still them finally, smiling expectantly over at Galinda.

Galinda thinks for a moment before replying, "We're on a mission for the Wizard, typical reconnaissance, very boring."

Milla squints at Galinda. "Elphaba said you never joined the Gale Force."

"I haven't," Galinda is quick to cover. She grins. "Freelance."

"Oh," Milla nods and just like that conversation moves on.

Outside Elphaba puts her bow down. The boys give protest, wanting to see, yet again, how to fire an arrow. Elphaba barely remembers what Galinda had told her in that field near the Cloister. Her memory can only recall how close the blonde was and the feel her calloused yet soft hands sliding over her own fingers. Even now, goose bumps appear on her arms at the recollection.

"Again!" The smaller boy, whom Elphaba has learned is named Gillan, exclaims, clapping his chubby hands together gleefully. He beams up at Elphaba.

"No, Gill," the older boy, Sapp, replies as he pulls his brother away. "You have to say please first!"

Elphaba chuckles at the two, squatting down to their level with a slight cringe as the angle causes a pinch at her side. "How about we play a new game?"

Both boys' eyes light up.

"Wha' game?" Gill asks.

Elphaba blanches realizing she doesn't know any. She's never played with children, let alone had anyone her age to play games with her as a child. Nanny would always entertain her with some chess, or the occasional game of cards. The boys sitting before her look like they are itching for adventure.

"What do you look like?" Sapp suddenly asks, reaching for Elphaba's shawl. She pulls sharply away before he can grab hold of the fabric. Except, she miscalculates her movement and lands sprawled on her butt on the ground.

Gill crawls into her lap quickly, tugging at the shawl. He lets out a small gasp, staring through wide eyes up into the bits of green skin he can see beneath. Sapp sticks his own face nose-to-nose with Elphaba's. She tenses at his closeness, the boy's breath washing over her face as he squints inquisitively into her eyes. "Is everyone from the Emerald City green?" he asks innocently.

Elphaba lets out a sigh of relief, her heavy pants quickly turning to laughter. She gives her head a shake as she easily picks Gill from her lap and deposits the boy down on the ground in front of her. "No," she tells them with a smile. "I don't know why I'm green. But you must keep it a secret okay?"

Both boys nod with gusto.

"I want to be blue!" Sapp announces.

"'Ellow!" Gill proclaims next.

Elphaba wishes everyone were as accepting of her color as the boys. But she knows that even in a world of blue and yellow, green would still be hated.

* * *

><p>The women stay for another night, Elphaba adamant that Galinda get some more rest, and keep off the obvious sprain her ankle sustained in the fall. Milla is more than happy to house the two again, bringing out blankets for Elphaba to spread across the floor as she did the night before. The boys are rambunctious as ever chasing their father around the small one bedroom home. When they trample all over Elphaba's 'bed' Milla forces them to take their shenanigans outside. She gives a sigh as they leave and she heads into the kitchens to wash the dinner plates.<p>

"Oh don't do that," she says upon realizing Elphaba is already attending to the mess. "You're our guest, you shouldn't be picking up after us all."

"I insist," Elphaba says with a smile she realizes Milla can't even see through her shawl. She notes the brunette appears paler tonight than she did the morning prior but attributes the change to hormones. Who is she to question the strange effects being with child must wreck upon a woman's body? Galinda leans forward from her reclined position along the sofa, trying to hear the conversation. Her leg slips from the pillow atop the armrest and she quickly repositions it before either woman can chastise her for not watching out for herself.

She feels a bit coddled.

It's frustrating if not entirely unwelcome.

_The tea could be better though_, she thinks, shaking her head to rid her tongue of the taste as she sets her cup aside.

Milla reaches up to replace some plates along a high shelf. Elphaba glances over, about to offer assistance when her eyes pass over the bandage peeking out from under the sleeve of Milla's dress. She gently takes the plate from Milla, setting the dinnerware down along the appropriate shelf.

"I do this every day you know," Milla tells her, feigning offence.

"But I'm here today, so I'll help," Elphaba replies kindly. "Besides shouldn't you be resting that arm? I apologize if I'm out of line. I just noticed the bandage is all."

Instead of the quip Elphaba is expecting to roll from Milla's tongue she's surprised when the brunette bursts into sudden tears. Galinda does more than eavesdrop at the sound of Milla's sobs. She joins Elphaba in the kitchen and helps the taller woman to sit Milla down on one of the chairs.

"I-I'm so _stupid_! Look at me!" Milla exclaims in a hushed voice, clearly denoting to both woman that she wishes the conversation not to reach the ears of her husband outside. Galinda squats down next to Milla as Elphaba continues standing, unsure exactly how to handle the clearly distraught woman.

"You're not stupid Milla," Galinda assures her softly. "Pregnant yes, but I'm just lucky I can't have children, otherwise who knows how many I'd have had by now."

That is news to Elphaba's ears. Galinda is infertile? How did the blonde know? Is that why she was so… so _experienced_?

"No, not th-that," Milla sniffles. She stares over at Galinda through desperate, red-rimmed eyes. "You mustn't tell anyone, _especially not Boq_, but a few nights ago I was in the wo-woods. Gill had run off and I was chasing after him when I saw a…a_ child_."

The color in Galinda's face drains at the beginning of Milla's tale. She knows how this will end. She doesn't need to hear more. She rests a hand gently over Milla's. It's the only solace she knows she can give her friend now.

When Milla catches Galinda's eye the brunette knows Galinda understands. She squeezes the blondes hand as she continues, "Obviously it wasn't a child anymore."

Elphaba lets out a gasp, bringing a hand to her mouth.

Milla's eyes turn to her lap. "I was able to kill it but not before it could bite me," she touches her arm gingerly. "It wasn't very deep, barely a scratch! I didn't think it caused enough damage to leave me… leave me stri- I don't want anyone worrying for me is all. I know the signs and I swore to kill myself the moment they begin to manifest further."

The trembling hands, Milla's sudden paleness; it all clicks in Elphaba's head.

"No," she breathes, shaking her head. "You can't be-"

"I am." It comes out as nothing more than a squeak. Fresh tears cascade down Milla's cheeks as she throws her arms around Galinda and buries her face against the blonde's neck. Galinda looks up at Elphaba, worry etched across her brow.

"I j-just want my daughter to be born safe!" Milla confesses against Galinda's blouse.

Elphaba lowers herself to her knees, hesitating for a moment with her decision before steeling her nerves and pulling the shawl down from over her face.

"Elphie, no," Galinda whispers but it's too late.

Milla stares, eyes wide and shocked at the green woman revealed before her. _But she can't be stricken_, she thinks. She doesn't act a thing like them!

Elphaba can't bear to watch the revulsion which is sure to form in Milla's eyes. She casts her gaze to floor instead as she tells Milla in a soft voice, "My mother was bitten before giving birth to me."

Milla sits up in the chair once more, still stunned and silent. Galinda moves closer to Elphaba, twining her fingers through one of Elphaba's hands and staring up at Milla in object opposition. If the brunette even thinks about hurting Elphaba, she's more than ready. She can feel her dagger pressing against her thigh inside her pocket.

"As you can see," Elphaba continues, voice still impossibly soft. She smiles. "I am safe."

After a pause Milla finds her voice as she breathes in deeply. "You're not one of them…"

Elphaba looks up, absolutely relieved to see Milla staring down at her in amazed awe.

"You just came out green? That's all?" Milla asks, excited.

_That's all,_ Elphaba repeats in her head. If only her father would have felt the same.

"Yes," Galinda answers, scooting to Milla's side once more, staring up at the brunette through pleading eyes, "but you can't let anyone know! _Please, Milla_. If they were to find out they'd- I can't bear… I-"

Milla shushes Galinda as only a mother can. "It's all right, I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you. _Sweet Oz_, thank you, Milla!" Galinda says in a rush, enveloping the woman in a tight embrace. "_Thank you_."

That night as the small town falls asleep, Galinda unsheathes her dagger and slips it beneath her pillow.

Just in case.

* * *

><p>The next morning Galinda once again wakes up later than the rest of the household. The smell of coffee wafts in from the kitchen and she grins, sitting up on the sofa. She doesn't remember the last time she's had a cup of one of her favorite drinks. She joins Milla at the small table, distressed to find the pregnant woman looking even paler, skin clammy.<p>

Milla stretches her neck as she rolls her shoulders, finding her joints growing ever stiffer. She tries not to imagine what fate is in store for her soon. So long as she knows her unborn child will be safe, safe like Elphaba, she is all right. She can die in relative peace.

Her tongue feels heavy though and in lieu of greeting she gestures for Galinda to take a seat. Together they sip their coffee and watch out the back window as Elphaba shoots a very wobbly arrow from her bow which lands with a pathetic plop a few paces away.

They can't hear the green woman's frustrated growl, but can plainly see her vexation even at a distance.

"For a Gale Forcer she seems a bit… rusty," Milla notes.

Galinda thinks quite the opposite. She can't believe Elphaba is practicing. Elated, she makes a quick excuse to Milla before heading out to help the clueless green woman.

"I can do this, my sweet," are the first words said to her once she's outside.

"Yes, that was quite a deadly shot you inflicted upon the grass there," Galinda smirks.

Elphaba stares over at Galinda, lips pulled in a thin line, clearly unamused.

"Let me help you," Galinda tells her softly.

"No," Elphaba says with a shake of her head as she holds the bow out before her and strings up – poorly, Galinda notes – another arrow. "Go spend time with Milla before it's too late. I can do this on my own."

"Milla should be spending what time she has left with her _family_," Galinda points out as she comes to stand behind Elphaba. She places her hands atop the green woman's tense shoulders, giving the tight muscles a squeeze. "Relax, Elphie."

"I can't with you so close," Elphaba confesses, voice low, almost breathless. Galinda didn't know she had quite that effect on the green woman. Instead of moving away, she only moves closer until her front is pressed flush against Elphaba's back. "Galinda."

"How can you expect to concentrate on an Undead in front of you if you can't even focus with me touching you?" Galinda asks.

"You're different," Elphaba explains as Galinda fixes the position of green fingers on the weapon. "Undead don't make me feel this way."

Galinda chuckles. "I'd hope not," she says and slides her hands up Elphaba's wrists. "Here, pull back," she instructs, tugging on the green woman's hand. Elphaba feels her body leaning into Galinda's touch, her hand holding the bow following the path of the blonde's own. "Open your eyes."

Elphaba doesn't even know when they fell closed. She focuses on her target. The pine tree a few yards away.

"Aim, just there. You feel that? The tautness in the string?" Galinda whispers. Elphaba tries to quell the shiver wanting to roll down her back at the blonde's words brushing against her neck. When Galinda feels Elphaba's muscles sink into place she breathes out, "let go."

The arrow is released, flying fast through the air before impacting against the tree ahead, bark exploding from the trunk.

It's the first hit Elphaba has had on her target all morning.

The smile on her face only grows when she feels Galinda's lips press a kiss to the nap of her neck.

Elphaba turns in the blonde's arms, but before she can lean down to properly thank the soldier, the sound of glass shattering from inside the home reaches their ears.

Galinda pulls away first, hands instantly hovering over her pocket where her dagger remains concealed.

A scream pierces the quiet next. Milla's pained voice.

Both women share a look of panic before rushing into the home. They find Milla sprawled on the kitchen floor, clutching her stomach, screaming in absolute agony as she shouts, "Boq! Get Boq!"

Galinda turns to Elphaba, "Find the boys, keep them away."

Elphaba nods, breathless as Galinda drops to Milla's side and helps the heavy woman from the ground.

Elphaba sprints out the front door, hurrying to cover her face with her shawl as she runs for the town's front gate. Boq must have heard the screams as he runs straight past Elphaba toward his home. The boys chase after him and Elphaba quickly intercepts, steering them toward the backyard instead. As she sits down along the grass to whittle some sticks into points with them she takes a nervous glance to the kitchen window.

Elphaba is torn from her apprehension when she feels the fabric being pulled from off her face. Gillan smiles up at her as he says, "Don't hide, Elfala."

She hopes Milla's daughter won't have to resort to the same.

* * *

><p>Inside the cramped bedroom, Milla is deep in labor when Boq finally rushes in. At the sight of his pale wife, hair matted to her sweat-drenched forehead, legs spread wide across the bed, he wills himself not to faint. Not like he did when Sapp was born, and certainly not how he spent the day hunched over a wastebasket when Gillian was. He comes to his wife's side, taking a hold of her hand. Milla squeezes and Boq swears a few of his fingers are now broken.<p>

His eyes flick to Galinda, who despite the anxiety coursing through her veins, sits at the base of the bed, staring resolutely into Milla's center with a towel held out in her arms.

Boq is pretty sure that's not what the other midwives looked like so he asks, "is there anything I can do?"

Milla lets out a strangled cry and Boq promptly faints to the floor.

"Excuse him," Milla says between her heavy pants. "He does that… every time."

Galinda tries to muster a smile but all she manages to do is show some teeth.

Milla laughs before another contraction pulls at her body. Her body arches from the bed, her hands digging into the sheets. It was never like this, she thinks, not at all like this with the boys. Not like something was trying to claw its way out from inside her.

Galinda holds Milla's ankles tightly, knowing the thrashing can't be good for mother or unborn child. She can see something pushing its way out from inside Milla's womb. A head perhaps? Galinda turns aside, swallowing thickly, trying to resist her urge to empty her stomach. She needs to remain alert, needs to make sure Milla's child is born safe.

"It's all right," Milla says, voice somehow calm despite the pains of her labor. "I know she'll be okay."

Galinda bites her bottom lip hard, feeling tears spring to her eyes at the absolute belief she hears in Milla's tone. All because of Elphaba.

Milla gives one last push, falling back to the bed as her daughter finally enters the world.

Galinda wraps a towel around the baby, severing the cord with a quick knick of her dagger. The child squirms in her arms, motions erratic. When Galinda looks down at the little girl's face she knows the baby is nothing like Elphaba. The girl is surely green, but green like the Undead. Instead of crying the small creature lets out a strangled moan, eyes squinting open, its irises already decaying. No heart beats in its chest. Blood dribbles from its mouth.

Galinda closes her eyes and clenches her jaw before snapping the infant Undead's neck.

She doesn't understand.

How could Milla have given birth to one of them?

Elphaba was born under the same conditions and came out fine, albeit green. But not this green. Not this sickly pale disgusting green that can only be attributed to something in death.

Before Galinda knows it she hears a gunshot sound from within the room. Her head snaps up and she's unsurprised to find Milla lying dead on the bed, pistol held in her hand. Boq wakes at the noise. His eyes immediately land upon his dead wife, and then to Galinda who holds his dead child.

"Boq, listen to me," Galinda tells him in an even tone.

"What did you do?" Boq shouts, tears spilling from his eyes and he tosses the gun from Milla's hand and stares down in horror at his wife.

"She was bitten," Galinda explains, voice still maintaining calm. "She knew and she didn't want you to know she-"

"_Get out_," he growls, eyes never leaving Milla's face. When he hears no forthcoming footsteps he turns his blazing fury at Galinda and screams, "_GET OUT_!"

Galinda drops the dead infant to the floor and rushes out of the room. She realizes that there's nothing more she can do. Yet even knowing such she can't stop the tears streaming from her eyes as she furiously scrubs the tainted blood from her hands in the kitchen sink.

Outside Elphaba and the boys have all fallen into silence. The gunshot sent both boys cowering in her lap, clinging to her blouse. And at Boq's shouts, they both buried their faces into her shoulder. Elphaba wills for her heart not to pound against her chest, knowing the boys are sure to hear how nervous she truly is.

Galinda bursts out the back entrance not a second later, eyes red with tears and shirt a bloodied mess. "We need to leave," she says, voice strained.

Before Elphaba can say a word, Galinda quickly takes off to where their horses are being kept. The boys grip tighter to Elphaba. She lets out a breath as a shaky smile pulls to her lips.

"I have to go," she whispers to them.

They shake their heads.

"You have to be strong for your Poppa okay?" she says, gently prying their small hands from her shirt. Sapp gathers his whimpering brother into his arms, giving Elphaba a brave nod as she stands to her feet. She doesn't want to say goodbye. She doesn't want to believe what must have happened inside that bedroom just took place. So instead she gives them a small smile and leaves her bow resting in the grass beside the boys before taking off after Galinda.

She finds the blonde standing in the stables, face pressed against the saddle of her horse. Elphaba can't hear her cries but she can see the blonde's shoulders shaking, heaving with her silent sobs. Elphaba doesn't hesitate as she wraps her arms around the quivering mess Galinda has become and hugs her tightly from behind.

"It had to be done," she whispers into Galinda's hair.

Galinda turns into Elphaba's embrace, holding the taller woman closely as she shakes her head against Elphaba's chest. "I d-didn't shoot her. She ki-killed herself! After her ch-child was b-born an Un-Undead!"

Elphaba's brow knots. She doesn't understand. She was once that same child, so how come she wasn't born stricken? What had happened? What made her different?

Galinda pulls away, wiping at her eyes, apologizing to Elphaba for the display. But Elphaba merely gathers the blonde into her arms again, whispering, "Don't ever apologize for being human, my sweet."

As they finally mount and head from the now sullen town Galinda wonders why indeed Elphaba was born as she is. Could the Bloodhound have been right? Did Elphaba truly not have even the slightest bit of stricken blood coursing through her veins? Was it really all just magic? Did Elphaba, even as an infant in her mother's womb, protect herself from the disease infesting her mother's body?

She did just the same protecting them for Morrible's cold.

_Yes_, Galinda thinks. That must be it!

"Perhaps you protected yourself from the disease," Galinda says, voicing her thoughts out loud. She turns to Elphaba. "You've said it before. You're not like them Elphie, you're alive, you have a soul."

Elphaba sighs, "then explain why I'm green."

Galinda thinks the statement over and all she can think of is the small bottle contained inside Elphaba's bag. If the elixir caused the Undead than perhaps it too can be attributed to Elphaba's skin. Maybe even her magic? She looks back to Elphaba and tells her, "I think that elixir is a lot more powerful then we once imagined."


	18. The Abandoned Tracks

**Chapter 18**

_The Abandoned Tracks_

Elphaba rolls her mother's bottle in the palm of her hand as the women ride further into the Vinkus grasslands. The heat is stifling. Galinda has already warned Elphaba about the insufferable weather of the summer months. The blonde has rolled up her shirtsleeves as far as they will bunch up her arms; her blouse is unbuttoned uncouthly low over her breasts. It's highly distracting, Elphaba thinks, especially given that her own horse seems to be just that edge taller than Galinda's. She finds her eyes taking fleeting glances Galinda's way, her cheeks heating even more under the hot sun whenever they flitter over the full breasts.

She forces herself to stare back down to the bottle. She pulled it from her bag once they were some distance from the small town. It was all that occupied her thoughts, or more aptly what she _forced_ her mind to focus upon once Galinda threw her modesty out the proverbial window. She doesn't want to be reminded of the heartache they are fleeing from. Because flee is what Elphaba realizes they are doing. Instead of staying to help the poor family she and Galinda quickly took off. She feels horrible for leaving the boys as they did. How would they take the news of their mother's death? Boq would be inconsolable; who would look after them? They couldn't possibly look after themselves, no matter how determined and brave a face Sapp put on as she left.

How could Milla have succumbed to the same fate as her mother? Hadn't the short woman explained they'd settled out here_ because_ of the lack of Undead? Elphaba realizes they haven't stumbled upon one Unmentionable since they've left Kiamo Ko. She's thankful really, especially after given their last encounter with those soulless creatures. If she never has to see another one again she'll be more than thrilled.

_Poor Milla_, she sighs inwardly. The woman only wanted to help a child she thought to be abandoned. Elphaba thinks she would have done the same… and she too would have perished just like her.

It's only now that she finally understands why Galinda is so methodical a killer. _You have to be_, she realizes. You have to be in order to survive.

The green bottle glints in the sun that streams through the light cloud layer above. The heat beats down on her back, warming her skin as she stares down at the bottle. How could this have saved her? Was Galinda right that there was more to her than just magic? Was it the elixir that saved her from the same fate Milla's child faced? Was it truly that powerful?

_Am I that powerful?_

As Elphaba loses herself in thought, Galinda finds herself doing much the same. She isn't surprised, really, by the tragedy of the past few days. Upset, yes, but shocked? Hardly. She knew the outcome was nearly inevitable. Part of her had hoped otherwise; that the baby girl would be born safe just like Elphaba. But Elphaba's magic had saved her, or perhaps it was the elixir, which Galinda did not want to try on Milla. Oz forbid her turn progressed faster because of it. Or the child could have been born healthy only to die and become an Undead later.

Either way it all would have ended the same.

There was nothing she could do to help the family.

There was no way to ever save Milla.

It doesn't make the sting of the loss hurt any less. And as if to make those matters worse Galinda knows they will soon be upon her old home. There is no way to avoid what remains of the refugee camp. Not without heading into lands Fiyero has marked as dangerous.

She can face her past, she thinks. She can do this without breaking down completely.

It'll be nothing but burnt sticks and scorched land.

_It's nothing_, she tells herself. _It's not who you are anymore._

All too soon, the sun across the sky dips, and twilight is upon the land. An otherworldly orange glow is cast across the Vinkus, the summer heat clouding the sky with thick moisture. Galinda knows the color well. Her grip on the reins tightens as she recognizes the swell of the land, the pattern of the plains.

And there, in the distance, she can vaguely make out what remains of the tent poles jutting up from the ground. A chill rolls through her at the sight, clammy skin paling even further. Her swollen ankle throbs as blood pumps furiously from her heart. She isn't ready to see this yet; she does not wish to tread upon the ground holding the ashes of her father.

Galinda brings her horse to an abrupt halt, startling Elphaba, who pulls sharply back on her own reins as well.

The green woman trots up next to the blonde, worried by the wide gaze Galinda casts ahead. Elphaba looks down her line of sight, seeing nothing more than what appears to be an old outpost camp long since burnt to the ground. What could be troubling the blonde so much about this place? Nothing still stands. They are safe here. Elphaba swears she can still smell the leather of the tent flaps burning in the air but she thinks it may just be their saddles. Her own saddle was scalding to touch after being exposed to the sun all day. It's clear their horses need rest, and perhaps Galinda could use some time with that ankle resting above the level of her heart.

She dismounts, pulling her horse gently by the reins into the blacked dirt ahead.

"No, Elphie!" Galinda's frantic call draws the green woman back quickly. She hurriedly remounts, guiding her horse back beside Galinda's. "We can't stop here," Galinda tells her in a voice quite unlike any Elphaba's ever heard pass her lips. It's meek. It's stilling.

It worries Elphaba beyond belief. Where are they? What is this place? "What's wrong, my sweet?"

"We can't stay _here_," Galinda says in that same soft tone again, eyes darting up to meet Elphaba's. "Not here."

Something about this place is terrifying the blonde. Something beyond the threat of hidden danger. Galinda never shies from peril… not like she is now. Not cowering atop her horse and acting for all intents and purposes like Elphaba when she was first thrust outside the City walls. It baffles Elphaba to see Galinda so uneasy.

So she asks, softly, careful not to rouse more fear in the blonde, "have you been here before?"

The small almost imperceptible nod Galinda gives her is all Elphaba needs to know that this isn't any ordinary camp. And as much as Elphaba wishes nothing more than to send their horses galloping away to ease Galinda's obvious pain she knows it's not that simple. This place is different. It won't just be left behind in their dust. It's obviously marred Galinda in some way, left a mark upon her soul as black as the ground they stand upon.

Elphaba wants Galinda to face her fears, and she wants to stand beside her as she does it, much the same way the blonde did for her as she faced her own. So Elphaba dismounts again and this time holds a hand out for Galinda to join her.

Galinda shakes her head. "Please Elphie, let's go."

"Not yet," Elphaba says, stretching her hand up further. She can feel sweat prickling at her temple but she is sure that her own perspiration looks nowhere near as profuse as the lines dripping down Galinda's face. As much as it pains her to see Galinda so clearly upset, she knows this will be for the blonde's own good. She cannot keep avoiding her past. She won't allow her to run away. "Come with me."

Again Galinda shakes her head, shoulders slumping as she whispers, "Elphie, you don't know this place, what happened, it's-"

"It's a part of you," Elphaba tells her earnestly. "So come down here and tell me of it."

"It's not that simple!" Galinda exclaims, voice carrying into the dusk. She gulps as silence envelopes the land following her outburst. "Please Elphie, let's just go. _Please_."

"What happened here?" Elphaba presses gently. When Galinda says nothing, lips pressed in a tight line, Elphaba lays a hand over the blonde's warm thigh, rubbing her thumb slowly over the heated fabric. "Galinda?"

Galinda wills herself the strength not to cry. She truly believed she could make it through without incident but Elphaba knows better. _Of course she does_, Galinda thinks. She always knows when something is plaguing the blonde. And she only ever wants to help. Galinda wants Elphaba to know, more than anything; she wants her to understand why she is the way she is. The blonde takes a steeling breath, then answers by taking Elphaba's hand in her own and slipping down from her horse. Her ankle stings as her foot settles along the familiar ground but the vice that feels as if it's squeezing her heart in two distracts her from the physical pain. She takes a few hesitant steps forward, never once letting go of Elphaba's hand.

Elphaba allows Galinda to lead them silently and slowly into the remains. She keeps a tight grip on the reins of both their horses and an even sturdier one on the blonde's hand. Galinda's steps are uneven, her weight favoring her good ankle. Elphaba gives the blonde's hand a squeeze when she sees the pain etching itself across Galinda's features.

Eventually Galinda comes to a stop, reaching out to touch a burnt post in what could have been a tent Elphaba notes.

"This used to be ours," Galinda whispers, brushing a few fingers over the charred wood. Some flakes flutter down to join others along the blackened ground. "My family, I mean," she clarifies as she takes a glance up to Elphaba.

Elphaba knows what Galinda meant and merely gives her a nod of encouragement, thumb rubbing the same soothing pattern along the side of her trembling hand. She knows better than to say anything. This is Galinda's story; this is something the blonde must get out. She isn't here to ask questions or prod her for answers… she is here to listen. Not to judge, not to interject, but just to be here so the blonde can finally open up to someone.

Someone that cares about who she is… all of her, even the girl who used to call this home.

Galinda stands in the remains of her family's tent and feels nothing of the girl who used to sleep upon this ground. She thought the moment she stepped up to the tent pole she'd be overcome with all her failings. With regret for her father's senseless death, with remorse for the girl who so adamantly pushed aside any emotion that ever sprung up in her heart. She sighs as she casts her eyes to the ground.

"I was a horrible person then," she starts softly. "I never cared about anything, I always thought tomorrow would be it. Tomorrow they will come and I will die so why bother today?" she mutters as she twists her foot down into the ground, revealing the brown dirt below the layer of baked soot. "My father believed otherwise. He was always trying to better himself. He'd practice fighting right over there with some of the other men in camp. He wanted me to learn too but I always refused. Instead I sat around getting drunk and wasting away my time. Be it girls, boys, men… I didn't care. What was the point of fighting? I spent so long making myself into this… this shell of a person so that I wouldn't have to _feel_ anymore. And when they finally did come and my father died I…"

Galinda trails off as she feels a lump form in her throat and moisture collect in her eyes. Elphaba puts a steadying arm over the blonde's shoulders, pulling her until Galinda leans most her weight against the taller woman's side. "It's okay," Elphaba whispers as she presses a light kiss to Galinda's temple. The soldier melts into the embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around Elphaba's torso.

"I did nothing!" Galinda cries, clinging to Elphaba as the tears finally fall. "I j-just ran!"

"He loved you. Even if you knew how to fight he still would have made you run," Elphaba tells her softly, holding the trembling blonde close. "You wouldn't have changed that."

"I could have tried… I could have helped…" Galinda sniffles, wiping at her eyes before looking up at Elphaba. "I'm…I-"

"You're not that girl anymore, my sweet," Elphaba says with a small sad smile. She tucks some of the blonde's hair behind a pink, sunburned ear.

Galinda's sobs quiet as silent tears continue streaming from her eyes. She doesn't understand why Elphaba is still holding her, not now that she knows the truth. Now the green girl knows what a horrible person she once was. How could Elphaba be so forgiving? How could she so easily separate the girl who once stood in this same tent from the one in her arms now? How could she _care_?

Galinda feels like she's suffocating from being so close to Elphaba. She pushes away, ignoring the pang of guilt stabbing into her heart at the hurt look that crosses Elphaba's face. She just wants to be alone. She wants to stop hurting so much. Why is it Elphaba always makes everything she's kept inside so tightly spill over like this? Why is it whenever she's around the green woman her emotions erupt? Why can't she just let her be! It was simple before she met Elphaba! It was so easy to ignore all of this! To just keep walking blindly through life without a care otherwise.

She hates the pain that spreads through her as she recalls losing her father to the Undead. To the blaze that stole his body before they could properly say goodbye. She hates who she was then, the weak, aloof girl who would no sooner help Milla let alone her own family. Who spent nights hating her existence and cursing the heavens for her fate. Who agreed to Academy in the hopes of erasing all her past mistakes… who fell even deeper into the hole she carved in her heart.

She lets out a long shaky breath.

Elphaba is right. She's not that girl anymore. Nor does she ever wish to be, let alone spend another moment lamenting. She's different now, stronger surely, but also a better person. Her heart is more open, kinder, protective, good even… not as good as Elphaba but she doubts she'll ever be so self-sacrificing. She isn't as pure. Tainted, perhaps, but mending.

All because a stubborn green woman won't give up on her.

She turns around hoping to find Elphaba still standing behind her, waiting for her as she always does. Instead she finds nothing but empty air. The green woman is gone and Galinda feels the hole that was so carefully filled over the past week open once more at the absence. Their horses are tied to a post a ways off and Galinda makes her way slowly over, thinking this is what she always deserved. To be alone, forgotten.

_Isn't that what you wanted?_ She spits bitterly to herself. _You pushed her away and now look. _

_Pathetic_, she thinks. She feels she'll always be a pathetic excuse for a human being.

A clinking sound jars her thoughts and Galinda whirls on her feet. From a distance she watches, stunned and bewildered as Elphaba levitates some large rocks into a pile, expression contorted in utmost concentration. She is straining at the exertion it's costing her. Galinda watches her carefully as she limps over. She stops a few paces from the green woman. Elphaba completes her work and reaches down to the ground where she picks a bundle of wildflowers from the dead grass. She lays them gently atop the small mound of rocks taking a step back as she wipes the sweat that collected on her forehead.

She hears Galinda breathing behind her and turns to the blonde. The soldier is staring, confusion and concern evident in her eyes. "I just wanted to do something," Elphaba explains, hesitant as she walks over to Galinda. "For your father, Ama, Milla, Dillamond. They did so much for you and I just… this seemed right. I hope its okay?"

Galinda doesn't know what to say. She breathes faster, heart pumping harder under her ribs. Elphaba's made this for her. Each memory of those lost in her life is burned into her soul. A piece of her has gone with them… but this simple tomb, this simple pile of rocks with wilting flowers placed so considerately atop… this breaks what little resolve Galinda has left. She flings her arms around Elphaba's neck, hugging the woman close. She wants to say so much but finds the words stuck along her suddenly thick tongue.

Elphaba holds Galinda tight, relieved the blonde is accepting of her work. She can sense Galinda struggling to speak and pulls back just enough to look down at the blonde as she asks, "Galinda, are you all right?"

Galinda winces, hearing her name called so tenderly. A name she very much attributes to the girl she wants to leave behind. She remembers Dillamond… she remembers how he too seemed to struggle with who she was then. "I think…" Galinda begins to say, swallowing thickly to dislodge the sob caught in her dry throat. She looks up to Elphaba, eyes brighter than they have ever been in years. "I think I'd like it if you called me Glinda instead."

Elphaba's brow furrows as she asks, "why the change?"

"Like you said, I'm not that girl anymore," Glinda tells her with a shy smile. "I haven't felt like her since meeting you."

"Glinda," Elphaba says slowly, testing the name along her tongue. A feeling of calm washes over the blonde hearing it spoken aloud. Elphaba smiles, "It suits you."

"Thank you," Glinda says, standing to her toes to kiss Elphaba, "for everything," she whispers between their lips. "_Thank you_."

* * *

><p>The next day finds Glinda planted firmly atop her horse while Elphaba hovers beside upon her broom. The green woman's brow is knitted in deep concentration as she forces herself into an upright position. Her stomach muscles strain, protesting all the work they're doing to keep her body from toppling to the ground not far below. It's not the most comfortable position but it affords the most stability, especially at the slow pace they are traveling. Elphaba wants nothing more than to lean across her broom and take off up into the clouds. As terrifying as it had been to escape Morrible, the thrill of flight was so exhilarating that once she was speeding through the sky she completely forgot her troubles below.<p>

She closes her eyes now, imagining the air rushing past, hair whipping in the wind behind her. Her heart skips a beat at the memory, smile teasing at her lips.

Glinda watches Elphaba warily. Even though it seems the green woman has complete control over the broom – and even seems to be _enjoying_ being perched so precariously atop it – she doesn't quite trust the old piece of wood. What if it were to snap in two? What if the spell were to wear off? What if it grew a mind of its own and decided it rather be riderless some thousand feet in the air? They're all possibilities! They all make her sweat unnecessarily. More so than she already is in the muggy Vinkus heat. She knows Elphaba is merely appeasing her worries by keeping such a slow pace and flying barely above her head. But even so Glinda is still concerned. Especially considering that the spell came from the book which Morrible coveted so. Glinda has tried to read it, to absolutely no avail. Was it a cursed text?

If Glinda is honest with herself she doesn't believe the book to be evil. If it is than how can a soul as good as Elphaba's read it so easily?

No, she thinks the book is much more complicated and simply can't be categorized as either dark or light. It's a book of power, limitless power it seems, if what Elphaba has explained to her about the spells is true. _So then what was Morrible doing with it_, Glinda wonders with a sense of trepidation.

Elphaba takes a deep breath shaking Glinda from her thoughts as she snaps her attention to the woman hovering beside her. Elphaba gives Glinda a smile, one Glinda can only describe as exceptionally confident.

"Stop worrying, my sweet," Elphaba says with a chuckle when Glinda pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. She gives a slight nudge on the broom handle, steering herself closer to the anxious blonde. The kiss is sloppy, Elphaba unable to keep in place with the horse's steps. Glinda doesn't care though, reaching a hand up to Elphaba's neck and pulling the green lips squarely over her own. As they part the tension in Glinda's shoulders wanes, the worry along her brow easing. She gives Elphaba a small smile and another quick peck before letting the woman go to float beside her.

"I'm sorry I get so nervous," Glinda admits sheepishly. "It's silly; you obviously have everything under control."

"I do," Elphaba tells her softly yet with a bit of mirth dancing in her eyes. "So how about that ride?"

Glinda shoves the woman gently away and Elphaba corrects herself, quickly giving a cackle as she shoots up into the air. Glinda shouts after her, aghast, but Elphaba cannot hear. The air is roaring past her. Her stomach plummets, adrenaline pumping fast through her veins as she speeds higher into the warm sky. It's unlike anything she's ever felt before and the closest she thinks she's come to feeling like this is when Glinda kisses her. Her laughter dies when her eyes take in the sight of some train tracks cutting through the land ahead. The grass has grown over great sections of the rails, the rusted metal stretching out over the plains as far as her eye can see. It's incomplete and yet another reminder of Oz's fallen state. Of the ruin left in the wake of the Undead scourge. She points her broom back down and joins Glinda's side once more.

The blonde has another look of concern etched across her face as she asks, "what is it?"

"Tracks," Elphaba tells her, pointing just ahead. Her balance is thrown off without the grip of her hand and she nearly slips off, but quickly catches herself, giving Glinda a sheepish grin.

"I'll just pretend that didn't happen, shall I?" Glinda muses as she digs into her saddle bag. "Were they train tracks?"

"Yes," Elphaba says with a nod, still a bit wobbly atop her broom. Her horse gives a snort and a soft whinny from his position tied next to Glinda's. She maneuvers herself over Glinda to give her own steed a reassuring pat along his mane.

"That's strange," Glinda thinks aloud as she studies the map now unfurled in her lap. "There aren't any tracks on the map. The closest rail is the Gillikin and that's days away still."

"Perhaps these were never recorded?" Elphaba suggests. "They looked unfinished."

Glinda finds this bit of information curiously alarming and stops her horse. "Do you think the Wizard was building a rail to the Vinkus?"

Elphaba shrugs, lowering her broom until her feet touch back upon the ground. "Why would he? What's out here for him?"

_Nothing_, Glinda thinks. Then she realizes the poignancy of her thought. _There's nothing_.

Elphaba seems to share in her revelation. "There's no Undead…" the green woman whispers. "We haven't come across one in ages!"

Glinda turns back down to the map quickly. "Look. There's no Undead sightings marked anywhere around here. Not for miles! Do you think the Wizard knew?" she asks, glancing back over to Elphaba.

"I think he knew more than that," Elphaba sighs. She ties her broom back to her horse before mounting the large stallion. "He was obviously trying to find a safe haven."

"Why give up though?" Glinda wonders aloud as they move forward once more. "Why just stop when he was so close?"

"Think about it Glinda," Elphaba tells her. "Would you be willing to lead thousands into unknown territory in the hopes you would all be safe? What if you were wrong? What if the Undead came anyway? I can see why he's chosen to fortify the Emerald City. This is just too risky."

"That's why he's a coward," Glinda snarls. "He wasn't even willing to see this through. To try!"

"We're just assuming this was him in the first place." Elphaba points out.

"It has to be," Glinda says, as she finally spots some of the tracks peeking out through the grass in the distance. "Who else could order this be built?"

"Should we follow it?" Elphaba asks, realizing if it is the creation of the Wizard then it surely will lead them straight to the Emerald City.

Glinda looks back down to the map. If they follow the rails for a way they wouldn't have to worry about their path diverting. They would also be heading straight into Undead territory once more. There is a reason this project was abandoned and Glinda doesn't want to find out the full extent of that reason. Not when it would mean leading Elphaba into peril.

"We'll stick with it for the day," Glinda decides. "Afterward we need to head further north."

* * *

><p>Glinda is entertaining Elphaba with a somewhat –or to her anyway– whimsically hilarious tale of a misadventure she tried to undertake with her Ama that involved a train, a gaggle of ducks and a cake. Elphaba is quiet as Glinda speaks at length of her childhood memory. It's adorable, Elphaba muses, how fondly Glinda thinks of her time spent in Mottica. Or at the very least her time spent there before she was aware why her family was secluded in the first place.<p>

She's happy the blonde is sharing this small part with her, partly because she knows she's never shared it with anyone else (at least she hopes not) but mainly because hearing Glinda speak so candidly with such a wistful smile on her face warms Elphaba's heart. She adores Glinda, every bit of her. Even the younger version of her she's sharing now. Elphaba chuckles to herself recalling when they first met and she imagined a toddler version of the blonde stalking around in great hulking boots, scowl on her face, wielding a crudely carved child-sized bow and arrow.

The frilly-dressed squealing girl Glinda is telling her about seems so far from that image it's nearly impossible to imagine they are the same girl. She likes that Glinda is multifaceted in this way. She wonders if the blonde sometimes finds her boring. She doesn't have any tales of adventure from her childhood to share. She was always quiet, too afraid to rouse a streak of anger in her father. So when Glinda asks Elphaba of her fondest memory with Nanny, Elphaba can't help but smile at the blonde's choice of words.

Glinda is different, she thinks. So very different from Galinda. She loves this new version of the blonde. It's not that she didn't care for the old version. In fact she's certain the name will slip every so often. After all she fell in love with Galinda, not Glinda. Though technically Glinda, she muses, since the blonde confessed to feeling differently even when they met. It's all wonderfully confusing, Elphaba thinks, and perfectly so. She doesn't mind that she is over thinking it, not when the blonde smiles at her so brilliantly every time she utters that new name.

A fresh start. A new beginning. Isn't that how the stories in the fable books Nanny read to her always went?

She still doesn't feel very much like a hero, especially not the one in her own story. But she has a strong one beside her, albeit feisty and a tad stubborn, disillusioned for sure and not to mention ruthless, but a hero nonetheless. What would the books call her? Glinda the…? The heroic? Too obvious. The gallant? Too princely. The brave? No… the good? Perhaps. Better for sure.

"Elphie, how many times have I told you to stop thinking so hard?" Glinda asks with a giggle, poking Elphaba in the arm. "You might as well paint a sign on your head so the Undead know it's your brain that's so tasty."

"My sweet," Elphaba says as her thoughts fade and a smirk crosses her lips. "Since when have you ever seen an Unmentionable reading? That's akin to you picking pockets for lipstick instead of arrows."

Glinda smiles wider, shaking her head as she purrs, "thinking of my mouth, are you?"

"It has been running quite a bit," Elphaba says with a chuckle.

Galinda draws her horse closer, brazen smile pulling at her lips. "I think you could catch it."

Elphaba lets out a loud cackle as she rolls her eyes. "I think you've _embarrassed_ yourself with that failed bit of flirting."

"As if you're some flirting expert," Glinda says with a laugh. "This is highly sophisticated material here. _Very refined_. So come here."

Elphaba places a few fingers over Glinda's puckered lips, pushing the blonde playfully away. At Glinda's pout she relents, leaning over to appease the blonde with a light brush of her lips before sitting back up in her saddle. Glinda looks mighty pleased with herself as she sits up straighter, running her teeth over her bottom lip.

Elphaba can't imagine these same tricks working on anyone else. She shakes her head as a thought suddenly springs to her mind. "You know, I used to be quite jealous of all the people who've shared your bed," she says and upon the distressed look on Glinda's face she gives the blonde a soft, reassuring smile. "But after that display of flirting I can't quite muster up the envy. They all must have been atrociously dim to fall for that."

Glinda feels relived by Elphaba's jest. It's still a sore subject to her, knowing how hurt Elphaba was after that night in the Scrow. It meant nothing, just as all the other nameless ones before. She's not that girl anymore. She made amends with Fiyero; she's forgiven herself for treating Arria so poorly. The only person she ever wants to be with is Elphaba. And she hopes Elphaba feels the same.

So Glinda smiles back and in teasing fashion ads, "Well, you fell for it. So what, pray tell, does that make you?"

"Atrociously lucky," Elphaba replies with the same grin.

Glinda doesn't think a conversation about past intimacies could ever end with such charm. But she knows it's all Elphaba's doing. It's Elphaba's way of accepting her past. Of making light of what's so recently transpired. Because even though Glinda's past wounds are still slick with pain, they are mending. Slowly but surely, Elphaba is tending to the hurt.

She's so grateful.

She smiles at Elphaba, about to ask her about that fond childhood memory when Elphaba speaks first, tentatively, "I've been meaning to ask you something. About what you said to Milla, concerning… children."

Glinda doesn't know what Elphaba could be thinking about and apparently her expression says as much because Elphaba elaborates, hands fiddling with her reins as she says quietly, "You said you couldn't have any."

Glinda knew, somewhere in the back of her head, that Elphaba would of course have remembered the offhand remark. To make light of the question she gives Elphaba a sly smirk as she asks in a husky tone, "Why, thinking of making some?"

"Glinda," Elphaba admonishes even though her cheeks flush a darker green. "Please, this is serious. Don't you care? How do you even know?"

Glinda hoped this conversation would never need to arise but seeing as it was rearing its green head she sighs. "I was told during my entrance health exam at Kellswater. The doctor never even looked me in the eye as she went over my results and checked _that_ box off aloud as if it was as ordinary as my eyes being blue. She moved on to the next student before I could even ask anything."

Elphaba thinks that of all the horrible things Glinda must have endured at Academy the harsh delivery of that news must have been the worst. "Maybe they were wrong. Maybe you're not infertile?" she offers.

"They weren't," Glinda mutters with absolute certainty. She wishes Elphaba would just drop this conversation. Her inability to ever be a mother isn't something she quite likes to think about. Especially given her actions once she was aware.

"But how can you be sure?" Elphaba asks. What kind of test was it anyway? A blood test? A sample of tissue?

But her thoughts are stalled as Glinda asks with a tinge of resentment, "Do you _really_ want me to answer that?"

And Elphaba realizes how Glinda must have known. Why she allowed herself to lie with men so easily. It didn't matter… there would be no consequence. The hurt she swore she'd never feel again over Glinda's past lovers- no not lovers, just her past _indiscretions,_ she corrects herself- comes tearing right back through her again, embedding itself inside her heart. She wills herself not to show how she truly feels. The girl Glinda is talking about is gone. All those others don't matter. They never did.

_Stop this_, Elphaba thinks to herself. _Stop questioning her. She can't change what's happened. She's already explained._

_Just be there for her now._

Glinda wonders why Elphaba is so quiet and so intent on the subject. But then she remembers how good Elphaba was with Sapp and Gillian. Awkward at first, surely, but they soon warmed to her as she did to them. "You want children," Glinda voices her thoughts aloud. The statement is simple, spoken with neither disgust nor admiration. Just spoken softly, curiously even.

"I've never thought about it," Elphaba admits.

"Until you heard about my condition."

Elphaba nods. She feels embarrassed for even bringing up the question now. She doesn't know why she couldn't have just left topic alone. Why she needed to pry. Clearly it's upset Glinda and now has brought up emotions within her she didn't even realize she had to begin with. Seeing Sapp and Gill react so positively to her, so innocent-minded and ignorant of the horrors of the world… it was wonderful. It made Elphaba think of what Glinda must have been like as a child. How the world shaped that once bright-eyed young girl into the woman she is today. Elphaba doesn't wish Glinda's past upon anyone. The blonde may have endured but look at the struggle it's taken to even get her to open up. The hurt still lingering in those blue eyes…

No, Elphaba thinks. She doesn't want children. "I could never want to bring a child into this world," she says.

"Well lucky for you I'm neither capable or a male so we'll have no worries on that front." Glinda muses hoping to lighten the mood once more. "Besides it's a bit too soon to be having talks of kids."

Elphaba gives a grateful smile for Glinda's casual change in tone. "Yes," she agrees. "You haven't even taken me to dinner yet…. That is still customary right?"

Glinda laughs. "Yes, it is. And speaking of traditions you know you never answered my first question."

Elphaba thinks back to their conversations, trying to find the moment Glinda is speaking of. "Remind me again, my sweet?"

Glinda feels her cheeks warm at the name as she asks again, "What was your fondest memory with Nanny?"

"Oh!" Elphaba breathes out as she recalls the conversation from earlier. "Simple, all of them."

Glinda smiles warmly up at Elphaba. "But there must be one that was your favorite."

"I appreciate them all," Elphaba tells her, growing quiet. "Even the bad, she was always there to make it right. I can't have a favorite because it would be analogous to belittling another." She glances over to gauge Glinda's reaction, surprised to find the blonde seemingly upset with herself for asking. Elphaba reaches over, lacing her fingers through the blonde's hand that holds her horses' reins. "But this one is quickly becoming my favorite with you."

Elphaba doesn't have to hear the blonde confirm her feelings. She can plainly see them in the light blush tinting the soldier's cheeks pink and the way the corners of her eyes crinkle with her smile.

"I don't know how you are always so sweet," Glinda confesses softly "After everything you've been through, everything _I've_ put you through."

"Because it led us here," Elphaba explains as if it's the simplest thing in the world. "I wouldn't change a thing if it meant giving up this moment."

Words tumble from Glinda's mouth before she can stop them. "If Milla could live?"

"Well of course I would for that," Elphaba tells her. Her eyes narrow as she tries to figure out why Glinda has turned the conversation to serious waters. When Glinda keeps her eyes rooted to the tracks stretching out in front of them Elphaba feels it necessary to ask, "Is something wrong?"

"No," Glinda assures her quickly, "Ignore me. It was an inappropriate question."

"Did you really think I would have answered otherwise?" Elphaba asks, worried for the response Glinda is soon to give.

Glinda looks up at Elphaba shaking her head. "No, Elphie, I _know_ you. I know you would give this up if it meant she could live. If it meant Dillamond could live, or any of the other lives lost since we left the City."

And that's when it strikes Elphaba. The quiet tone of Glinda's voice, the hesitancy of her words. She's afraid not of the hypothetical, but of a future event. One that would end with the loss of their newfound relationship or worse, the loss of Elphaba's life. So the green woman gives a tug on Glinda's hand, still twined with her own and answers only once Glinda's anxious eyes meet her own. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You can't promise that though, can you?" Glinda asks voice barely above a whisper.

Elphaba wets her lips, throat suddenly dry as she realizes, "No, I can't promise that."

Hearing the words stings but Glinda knows them to be the truth. And what more she can't say she wouldn't do the same if it were the green woman's life on the line. So Glinda stares down at their hands, squeezing tight as she whispers back, "I can't either."

* * *

><p>The sun is still high in the sky when they come across a forsaken train along the tracks. At first Glinda thinks it to be the last of the supply carts but the closer they get the more she thinks otherwise. The train cars are simply too elaborate to be of the kind she imagines the workers must have used. And they are too few in number, there are only a few cars as opposed to the long lines of them she knows would have been used to haul supplies. The engine car is still attached, the once polished metal now rusted and grown over with tall weeds. The Wizards seal peeks out though the undergrowth, embedded upon front grate.<p>

The train is facing them, pointed straight ahead toward the Vinkus.

It never made it to the end…

Elphaba slips from her horse once they're even with the steam engine, Glinda soon following. The green woman's never seen a train. Read about them, surely, but she doesn't quite think her books prepared her for this though. It's far more impressive in person, far more imposing. She can't imagine anything being able to stop such a massive amount of steel, let alone that something as simple as some common weeds could trap it so.

Glinda ties their horses to one of the pistons along the wheel. The animals are happy to graze in the tall grass around the tracks. She hops up into the first car and gives a kick to the door. The rotting wood splinters under the impact, unhinging from its mount as it falls into the car. Glinda clenches her jaw to stop a groan from escaping her throat at the pain that radiates from her swollen ankle supporting her on the platform. She quickly moves her weight to her other foot, the pain subsiding quickly. As the dust kicked up settles she pulls her dagger from her holster and cautiously makes her way inside.

Outside, Elphaba watches Glinda disappear into the abandoned car. She can see the blonde through the broken windows, slowly moving through the train. Eventually Glinda pokes her head out from a window somewhere near the middle, wide grin plastered across her face.

"It's clear!" she exclaims, waving for Elphaba to come aboard. Elphaba jumps up into the first car, surprised to find the train in such disarray. The once plush interior is vandalized, seats slashed open, rug torn and stained. It reeks of faded elegance, of failure. The glass from the windows spills into the alley, breaking further under Elphaba's careful steps. She walks forward, through one broken passenger car and then another just as equally decrepit. She finds Glinda in what appears to have been the dining car; a few of the tables have survived, despite being turned on their sides and sporting rather garish slices in their wooden tops. Glinda sits along a broken bench in front of what Elphaba is surprised to find is a rather old and beaten piano.

The blonde strokes a few of the keys, kicking up a bit of dust from the open lid. The piano is clearly out of tune, the notes glaring loudly in the small car.

"I'm not quite as gifted with music as I am with knives," Glinda says with a chuckle.

Elphaba smiles as she makes her way over and Glinda makes room along the tiny bench for her to sit. The wood creaks under their combined weight but holds strong. Elphaba settles more comfortably and brushes a hand over the dirty ivory keys. Her fingers come away covered in a layer of dust and she brushes the filth off on her sleeve. She's upset by the loss of what was once a beautiful instrument.

"You know how to play," it's more a statement than a question, spoken with candid awe.

Elphaba nods, playing a short soothing arrangement of notes. Even out of tune Glinda knows Elphaba is quite skilled. She smiles at the taller woman, touching her hand gently. "Nanny taught you to play, didn't she?"

Again Elphaba nods, leaning against Glinda's shoulder. She plays a few more notes as she says quietly, "I used to play a lot at the Consulate. It was the one thing my father couldn't take from me."

"Wherever we end up, I'm getting you a piano," Glinda tells her.

Elphaba feels her heart warm at Glinda's admission. She turns to look over her shoulder. A few tattered curtains billow in the wind carrying through the broken windows. Sunlight beats in from outside, streaming through the open panes and holes along the ceiling. The air is warm and stale inside the car but Elphaba doesn't want to leave. Her eyes land on one of the overturned dining tables and a grin forms over her lips as a plan works itself out in her head. She stands to her feet and makes her way over to the table, righting it swiftly and pulling a couple of the sturdier looking chairs from off the floor.

Glinda watches with a mixture of amusement and confusion as Elphaba dusts the table off and shoots a smile Glinda's way. "Stay put," Elphaba tells her, still grinning as she runs out from the car.

Glinda makes her way to the table, ankle stiff as she takes a seat. She knows it needs to be worked out. The muscles need to loosen up. She can hear Elphaba rummaging through their saddle bags outside as she rotates her ankle around, wincing at the soreness. She continues trying to regain movement even as Elphaba comes dashing back inside, cheeks flushed and breathless. The green girl places two broken plates down on the table that she managed to salvage from a cupboard in the preceding car. Glinda quirks a brow in question but soon realizes what's happening when Elphaba pulls a familiar compact package from her bag and unwraps the paper, revealing the blonde's rations of dried meat.

"And here I thought I was supposed to be treating _you_ to dinner," Glinda says as Elphaba finally takes a seat, placing a couple pieces of cut up fruit along her own plate.

"I know but seeing as I have a pair of trousers as well now I figured tradition be damned," Elphaba smirks. "Besides, you should be keeping off that ankle for a bit longer."

Glinda is about to protest otherwise, that she's more than fine, but Elphaba shushes her with a well-placed look. With a shake of her head and smile still gracing her features Glinda digs into the dinner Elphaba so thoughtfully arranged for them to share. No one has ever done anything quite so… well, for lack of a better word she thinks, romantic for her. And yet it's effortless. Somehow perfect.

"Thank you," Glinda says softly as Elphaba takes a few bites from her apples. She reaches across the tiny table, lacing her fingers through Elphaba's. "Dinner's wonderful."

"You're a terrible liar as well," Elphaba tells her with a chuckle, not being able to help the blush she knows is creeping along her face. "But you're welcome nonetheless."

"I'm serious, Elphie," Glinda says adamantly. "This is by far the nicest thing anyone's done for me."

"I find that impossible to believe, my sweet."

"Believe what you will, it's the truth. You are one incredible person Elphaba-" Glinda stops abruptly when she realizes she doesn't even know the green woman's last name. How could she not know such trivial piece of information about the girl she loves? It embarrasses her. Who falls for someone without even knowing their full name? Did Elphaba even tell her? Glinda swears she would have recalled it.

"Thropp," Elphaba tells her quietly, eyes growing dark. "But I don't want you to call me by that name."

_Of course_, Glinda thinks, feeling responsible now for dredging up memories of the woman's father. That's why Elphaba never told her. Glinda squeezes Elphaba's hand, giving her a smile in understanding. "Just Elphaba, I remember."

Elphaba gives her a shaky smile in response as she picks herself up from the chair and moves to sit back on the piano bench once more. Without a word Elphaba launches into a slow piece, fingers effortlessly playing across the keys. The song is familiar, even out of tune, to the blonde and all too soon she recognizes why. It's the same song Elphaba hummed in the bath at the Cloister. Glinda moves closer, sitting silently beside the green woman on the bench, watching Elphaba's brow crease over her closed eyes as the same melody strums inside her throat.

At the time Glinda found it haunting, beautifully so.

Here, now, in the broad light of day with dust swirling around them both she thinks it's nothing short of gorgeous. It's a melody she knows is engrained in Elphaba's mind and unquestionably her very soul. She's never seen anyone get quite so lost in a piece of music; evoke such feeling from a simple instrument. Make something so incredible from something created by the hands of men far less capable then the green ones so carefully moving across the cracked and dirty keys.

She can't believe she was ever afraid of those hands. Hands she once wanted nothing to do with. Glinda has to still her breath in the wake of the stab of guilt driven through her heart as she recalls how poorly she treated Elphaba. How many times had she threatened the woman's life? Pushed her aside? Left her for _dead_ even? Glinda wills herself not to cry, not to shed another tear for the horrid person she was before. Instead she watches Elphaba intently, watches as the green woman's voice quiets, the notes of the piano fading, the song ending.

Elphaba gives a long sigh as she stills her hands atop the keys. She looks over to Glinda, knowing the blonde is sitting beside her. The timid smile falls from her face at the look of sheer longing she sees shining back at her through the watery blue gaze.

"I love you," spills from Glinda's lips without hesitation.

Elphaba blinks, heart racing at the blonde's confession. The words she's been waiting to hear leave her stunned, unable to even move. Her chest rises and falls with her rapid breaths, eyes never once leaving the darkened blue staring so intensely into her own. The silence shakes Glinda from her near trance-like state, her eyes clearing as she realizes what she's just said. Elphaba remains speechless, mouth agape as she wills her brain to say something, _anything_ in response. Glinda begins to turn away, feeling her own heart tearing and needing distance, needing the space to breathe.

But Elphaba reaches out, cupping the blonde's face between her palms, completely unaware of the dirt her fingers smear across Glinda's flushed cheeks. Glinda stills at the touch, eyes wide as Elphaba leans over the small space separating them and brings their lips into a searing kiss. What she can't form in sentences she makes up for in action, drawing Glinda closer, pouring every ounce of everything she's ever felt for the blonde into the kiss. Glinda whimpers, deepening the contact as she kisses her back with just as much fervor.

The click of a pistol's hammer springs the girls apart, breathless and flustered. Glinda tries to reach for her own concealed weapon but is quickly deterred as the assailant kicks her hard, body falling down to the dusty floor. Her head slams against the floorboards, vision exploding into an array of contrasting colors as she groans and tries to pick herself up.

"Get her up," one of the men orders, of which there are two, Glinda now knows as the second voice rings in her splitting head. Her vision sharpens as her eyes dart up to Elphaba. The green woman thrashes violently in the arms of the other smug man until he too withdrawals a pistol and presses it painfully against her temple.

A rush of fury flares inside Glinda. She scrambles to her feet only to be pinned back down by the second man, cheek forced along the floor once more.

"Better," the man above her muses, voice gruff. Glinda watches, squirming under the strong holds as the other forces Elphaba at gunpoint forward and out the car.

Glinda allows the man behind her to yank her from the ground and push her out the car as well. She tumbles down to the grass, her ankle protesting as she trips and falls once more. She feels a knee driven into her spine, back arching as a cry of pain is ripped from her throat.

"Don't hurt her!" Elphaba shouts, jerking against the bonds the gunman has just tied around her wrists. She narrows her eyes in impassioned rage over at the man hurting Glinda so unremorsefully. A slap is placed across her face, the sting barely registering in her mind as she glares at the man beside her. He's handsome, young, with a bit of infuriating stubble growing along his chin. He gives Elphaba a dazzling smile as he dangles a weathered and familiar section of the Emerald City paper in his hands.

"Can't quite work your wicked magic now without your hands can you witch?" He smirks, poking her head with the barrel of his gun as he stuffs the paper back into his breast pocket. His partner pulls some rope out to bind Glinda's hands. The blonde remains still on her knees on the ground, turning her head in search of Elphaba's eyes. Their gazes meet, both worried, both determined to free the other.

"Which one did they want dead?" the man behind Glinda asks, turning to his partner.

Elphaba's very being grows cold as the man beside her nods down to Glinda.

Glinda can't see who's he's motioned to, but she fears it was Elphaba. She tries to jump to her feet only to have the man kick her forcefully to the ground.

"Stop!" Elphaba screams.

The gunman beside her aims his pistol toward Glinda. Before he can even move his finger over the trigger, Elphaba rushes at him, slamming him against the side of the train car with her shoulder. The gun falls from his grip and he shoves her aside roughly, cursing at her as he quickly bends to retrieve his fallen weapon.

He barely manages to touch it when Elphaba lands a hard kick to his head, rendering him unconscious.

"_Elphie_!"

A gunshot rings out, the bullet sparking as it ricochets off the side of the car. Elphaba turns quickly on her heels, just catching as Glinda throws a punch against the other man's jaw. He recovers quickly, giving his head a shake as he brings his pistol up level right over Glinda's heart.

Elphaba gasps, a growl tearing through her throat as she launches herself at the man and tackles him to the ground. Flames erupt from her hands as the stunned and frightened man stills beneath her. She clutches his shirt collar, the fabric quickly turning to ash in her grasp. The gun falls from his hand as he screams beneath her, skin burning under the onslaught of heat. Elphaba lets him go, flames dying as she picks up the gun and holds the barrel pointed right between his eyes. She wants nothing more then to end this man's life, to kill the one who caused such pain to Glinda. He was about to murder the blonde without second thought!

With shaking hands she clicks down the hammer. The man pants heavily below her, eyes pleading with her to spare his life.

"Please, don't," he whimpers between his split lip. "We'll go, I swear...just _please, _don't kill me."

Glinda lays a steady hand over Elphaba's own trembling grip, slipping the gun from the green woman's palms. Glinda helps Elphaba to her feet, eyes never once leaving the whimpering mess of the man lying so pathetically on the ground below.

She pulls the trigger, the loud smack of the gunshot echoing across the empty plains. The mans eyes remain wide open, frozen in death with fear as a line of blood drips from the hole now implanted in his temple.

The other begins to stir, roused from Elphaba's earlier kick at the sudden sound. He barely manages to open his eyes before Glinda turns his way, takes aim and fires another shot.

He crumbles back to the tall grass, a splatter of red staining the train car behind his head.

And just like that it's over.

Glinda lets out a breath as she lets the gun fall from her hands. It's lost quickly in the overgrown grass.

Elphaba still hasn't regained control of her heart, her breaths still fall short of filling her lungs. These weren't Undead. These were men, breathing living humans just like them. Bastard men, but men nonetheless. How could Glinda kill them so easily, without so much as batting an eye? Without so much as a care placed to their pleas?

Elphaba knows she's being hypocritical. Just moments before she was more than ready to end that man's life… but she'd hesitated… she just couldn't do it. She's not like Glinda. She's not methodical. Not so ruthless… She can't take the life of another. Not when she knows the guilt it will place upon her soul.

So when Glinda's once dark and angry eyes turn soft and gentle once more, Elphaba wonders what ever happened to the woman she loves. Where did she go? Who replaced her just now?

"How c-could you… you do that?" Elphaba asks, voice strained and on the verge of tears.

Glinda looks away, not wanting to see the disappointment in Elphaba's eyes. "I had to," she says quietly and with conviction. "If I let them live they would have just found us again. And I wasn't about to leave them tied here to become yet more Undead. Better dead now then to add to the problem."

She knows better than to tell Elphaba it is because she wanted to. She vowed to herself to keep the green woman safe, no matter the cost.

If taking the life of two idiots is the price, she is glad to pay.

If it means Elphaba will hate her for a while… it will hurt but it will be worth it in the end.

Elphaba has to understand and if not, at least she's learned now that nothing is worth more to Glinda then her life. So long as Glinda lives and breathes nothing is going to ever take away the woman she loves.


	19. Like Flying

**Chapter 19**

_Like Flying_

There is a strain, a tense rift of fleeting glances and unspoken apologies between the women as they ride north in search of the Gillikin River. It's been two days since they last shared their meal on the train… since Glinda killed two men without second thought. Elphaba doesn't know how to speak to the blonde, not without her thoughts of their imagined conversations soon derailing once she brings up the murders. Because that is what Glinda has done, unremorsefully taken two lives. There is no other way to describe it, no amount of words to lessen what happened. Nor has there been any twitch of guilt marring the blonde's brow, or trace of pain flashing in her eyes.

It is simply as if Glinda has crumbled the memory to a tiny ball and shoved it deep inside her mind. Forgotten, just like that. Just like all the others before… What little she has said to Elphaba has been met with cautious replies and hurt brown eyes. And every time she's uttered those three simple words to the green woman it pains her to watch as the muscles in Elphaba's back pull taut and the swoop along the woman's neck depresses in reaction to the jaw she knows has just clenched. It as if she has been struck, pained by Glinda's words.

Those nights make Glinda want to scream, want to apologize for something she truly believes she shouldn't ever have to feel regret for. Because she holds none for her actions, not when Elphaba still breathes beside her, not when she knows what those men would have done if she hadn't pulled that trigger. Why can't Elphaba understand that? Why is she so against harming those who wouldn't think twice of doing the same to her? She certainly held no qualms about the men who met their ends at Glinda's blade or the many arrows pierced through beating human hearts. What of the souls that may have perished in the fire just outside the Emerald City? What of her own bloodshed?

Does she even realize she's done the same, whether it be by accident or not?

So what makes _these _men any different?

Glinda can't look at Elphaba, not into the eyes that once held so much promise which now seem intent on never meeting her own again. She feels as if a shroud has been wrapped around her heart, the fibers squeezing tighter for every hour of every day that passes without some sign from the green woman that she still cares. That Glinda is not in this alone.

That her love is returned.

But Elphaba remains quiet, barely answering any of the simple questions Glinda softly asks her way. _How much longer will she punish me so?_ Glinda thinks, chest burning as guilt twists through her already pained heart. _How can she expect me to apologize?_ _Is that even what she wants?_ She can't change what's happened and she'd do it over a thousand times if it still meant Elphaba would be safe.

She will always do what is needed, even if the green woman doesn't see it so.

Elphaba has only been outside the walls of the City for almost two weeks now. _Oz, has it really only been that long?_ She's never had to fend for herself in this land, hasn't grown the tough skin needed to survive with your mind intact and your soul tarnished but strong. _She has to learn_, Glinda thinks to herself. _She has to understand this is just how it is out here._

And yet, she doesn't want Elphaba to change, doesn't want her to lose all the genuineness she's come to love about her. The goodness, the honesty, the openness, her pure heart…

She loves her, she can't lose her.

_Can't Elphaba see that?_

The heat of the Vinkus is far behind them, the air still warm but giving way to the crisp breezes that roll down the plains from the great hills of the Gillikin Valley. Elphaba has tied her hair back into her usual braid, fingering the ends every so often when she works up the courage to finally address the stoic woman beside her. And every time she opens her mouth to speak her voice is caught, thrown back into her throat at the sight of the blonde's grim expression and steely forward gaze.

She misses the soft curve of Glinda's smile, the endless blue of her eyes. Not the deep shadowed color they've turned now, not the way their numb stare consumes her. She hates that she can't just get the words she wants to say out. Glinda saved her life, _both_ their lives. She had the nerve to do what was necessary… what was needed.

Elphaba knows she would have never been able to pull that trigger. Not after having the man's pleading eyes boring intensely up into her own. She'd become the monster the Wizard described, the dangerous green girl with the wicked skin and cold heart. All of Oz wants her captured. Those men sought her out, probably in hopes of gaining the fortune promised, perhaps even the glory. Did they have families to feed? Mothers to care for? Were they truly the despicable people she imagined them to be? Was the one with the smug expression and swagger in his step truly such a horrible being? Was it all an act? A brave front in the face of what he'd been lead to believe was evil incarnate?

Not knowing is perhaps what vexes her mind most. The ambiguity of it all. Glinda was right. Out here, out on the ravaged plains under the bright light of day there is no difference. There is only life and those willing to do what it takes to survive. No good, no bad, just shades of grey mixed within the spectrum of humanity so intent on only seeing black and white.

How could she blame those men for trying to do something they were told was right? How many times had Elphaba read that same paper and soaked up the words as if the truth in the ink was proof enough of their validity? He didn't deserve to die for believing the Wizard. Neither of them did.

No one need die because of one man's misdeed.

Those men were heroes, in their own misguided way.

Brutes for sure and definitely deserving of a punch or two –maybe a broken arm– but not bullets to their heads. Glinda could have made sure they not follow some other way. She was just–

_She was just protecting you_, Elphaba tells herself, brow creasing with remorse. _Like you failed to do for her…_

_I can't keep Glinda safe_, Elphaba laments as her posture slumps in the saddle along her horse. And perhaps that is the biggest cause for her silence now. Guilt, guilt unlike anything she's ever experienced before consumes her very soul. She feels weighed down, a pulling along her spine that slinks across her body making her unable or even just unwilling to grasp for freedom. It's like being back on that cold lab table, strapping herself into the bonds when she could just as easily have fled.

Elphaba is not that helpless, feeble and long-suffering girl anymore. She can fight for Glinda, she too can be strong, and she has the power to do so. Power she's just starting to grasp, magic she's beginning to understand. Glinda need not carry the burden of having to always protect them both. Of needing to take lives.

That night Elphaba vows to herself that no other innocent souls will perish along their journey to out the truth.

Glinda can take care of the Undead, she's far more skilled and trained for them. But as of now, those with heartbeats who stand in their way will be facing the resolute stare of the green woman they've come to fear. And the magic she's ready to unleash. Elphaba sits hunched over the Grimmerie reading by the light of the enchanted blue flames which engulf her hand. When she's sure Glinda is fast asleep she practices a few of the simpler charms. Perfecting levitation, dabbling in immobility and conjures. The enchantments from the book are draining, powerful bursts of magic that make her collapse to her knees, panting, with beads of sweat dripping down her face.

She endures. Pressing ever harder, holding the magic that much longer.

Time moves swiftly and before she knows it, it is time for Glinda to begin her watch. She wakes the blonde with a gentle shake of her shoulder, coaxing the sleep from behind the blonde's eyes. Glinda slowly sits up upon the ground, hands still splayed along her bed roll behind her, hair mussed and loose from the ribbon it's typically tied behind her neck with. Instead of turning aside as Elphaba's done previous nights once Glinda is up she leans over and places a lingering kiss to the blonde's warm cheek.

Glinda's face blooms a deep pink at the touch, mouth parted, eyes a strange and wonderful mixture of confusion and delight.

Elphaba feels her heart grow weightless, unbound by something as trivial as gravity when the smallest of smiles pulls at Glinda's lips. And just like that, the rift is gone, the hurt erased. Glinda lunges forward before Elphaba can settle down, grabbing the green woman by the face as she brings their lips together.

Between short breaths, with tears prickling in her eyes and kisses never ceasing, Glinda whispers those three words again and again, and again.

And Elphaba melts into the blonde's touch, savoring every word.

* * *

><p>They stand over the broom, Elphaba dutifully holding still to the hovering enchanted wood. Galinda shifts nervously on her feet, the broom brushing against her thighs at the small movement. She flinches, hands shaking as she reaches forward and places her hands on Elphaba's hip.<p>

"Glinda, my sweet, you have to hold tighter than that."

"But your side!"

"I assure you, for the thousandth time, I will be fine. You on the other hand? You may very well end up a delectable pancake for Undead to feast upon unless you _hold me tighter_."

Elphaba gives a yelp as Glinda's arms encircle her waist just a bit too taut. The blonde lets out a squeal, letting go all together as she dismounts from the broom, red-faced and with apologies spewing from her mouth in an endless loop of,

"Sweet Oz, Elphie! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to squeeze so tight! _You_ _said tighter_! Are you okay? Fuckify me! This is my fault! I'll fix it! I'm so sorr–eeeeaAHHH!"

Galinda is scooped into Elphaba's lap as the green woman grabs a hold of her and pulls up on the broom suddenly, shooting them straight up into the sky.

This time when Glinda's hands dig into Elphaba's skin, short nails scraping painfully along her back, Elphaba just lets out a cackle. She holds tight to the blonde with one arm encircling the woman's small waist, the other gripping firm to the broom handle as she brings them into a dizzying climb high into the clear Ozian sky. Even once Elphaba brings the broom to a stop, floating lazily above the land Glinda still clings to Elphaba, wishing her legs weren't dangling over the end of the green woman's lap. Oz, she'd straddle Elphaba if she weren't so afraid of moving from this very spot! She closes her eyes tight, burying her face into the crook of Elphaba's neck, pressing her torso flush against Elphaba's already impossibly close form. Glinda feels as though her insides are still far below, trying desperately to catch up with her trembling body. She hates flying, absolutely detests this. How can Elphaba find such pleasure in something so innately CRAZY!

"Open your eyes," Elphaba tells her, voice full of mirth and promise. She holds Glinda closer, whispering softly on the breeze that pulls at their hair, "I've got you. I won't let go. You're safe with me."

"Please bring us down," comes out as nothing more than a whispered plea on bated breath.

Elphaba's stomach plummets hearing the tone. She never meant to terrify the blonde. Oz, she's never quite seen Glinda so… so _scared_. She imagines this is what the blonde must have been like as a child. Fleeing from ducks and cowering against her Ama's skirts. She was sure once they were level and the blonde could see how spectacular the sight was from above that all her fears would vanish much the same as Elphaba's had on her first flight. But it's clear the quivering woman in her arms now wants nothing more than to have her feet firmly planted on solid ground.

To have control of herself once more.

Elphaba can't help but hold Glinda closer as she coaxes her broom into a slow even descent.

Glinda feels relieved, impossibly overcome with gratitude when she realizes they are lowering. She can feel green fingers drawing a soothing pattern along her hip, a soft melody hummed from the throat pressed against her forehead.

"I'm sorry, my sweet," Elphaba mumbles into her hair, a ghost of a kiss laid against her hairline next.

Once the toes of Glinda's boots brush along the grass, she springs up from Elphaba's lap, fear all but disappearing under the glowering stare she levels Elphaba's way. "If you _ever _pull a stunt like that again, I _swear_ to you… I swear I'll... I'll… argh! Stop staring at me so! I can't think of a proper threat when you look at me like that!"

"Look at you how?" Elphaba asks, still perched on the broom as she floats beside Glinda. She doesn't quite understand how the sorrow she assumes is painted across her green face could be causing Glinda to fluster so.

Glinda, for all the anger she wishes she could manifest at the green woman, finds herself only succumbing to the fondness she feels for Elphaba. Especially with her cheeks tinted a deep hue of green as they are from the rush and thrill of the flight, wisps of black hair cutely sticking out from her loose braid, eyes still bright and dancing with exhilaration despite the obvious concern etched across her creased brow. So when Elphaba, still hovering just a head the blonde, feels Glinda pull her into a searing kiss she is more than a bit surprised.

In a good way, of course. The kind that makes her want to wrap Glinda in her arms and float off somewhere far, far away. The blonde has to stand to her toes to reach, even with Elphaba leaning down across her broom as she is. Glinda feels all her earlier annoyance ebb as Elphaba cups her cheek and kisses her deeply. When Glinda pulls away, smile on her plumped lips she can't help but let out an inappropriately girlish sound –a giggle of sorts, with surprising hint of malevolent glee Elphaba notes– when the green woman loses concentration, her balance and the grin on her face as she lands sprawled on her back in the grass below.

Glinda knows Elphaba is fine, especially given the indignant and embarrassed look which crosses the green woman's face. She rises up to her elbows, fixing her gaze on Glinda as the blonde continues laughing. Once her giggles subside Elphaba quirks a brow. "You wanted that to happen, didn't you?"

Glinda gives her a shrug as she turns to return to their horses and calls over her shoulder, "Serves you right!"

* * *

><p>Late that night –which Glinda blames Elphaba entirely for since it's her fault they just <em>had<em> to stop for that ill-fated broom ride– they finally make it to the first town along the map. Dixxi House stands a faded and decrepit version of the once vibrant town Glinda's Ama spoke so fondly of. Elphaba is quick to wrap her face in her shawl, hood of her coat thrown up for good measure and hands enclosed in riding gloves. With a nod from Glinda they make their way cautiously into the quiet town. A few lamps burn low from behind boarded and barred windows. Smoke billowing up from chimneys mix quickly into the black of the night above.

Glinda wasn't expecting to find so many survivors. A veritable ghost town is what Fiyero had marked the map with. So who are these people? Muffled shouts and laughter ring out into the night. Glinda is not surprised to find the town tavern glowing brightly down the crumbled and unmaintained cobbled path ahead. One of Glinda's hands instinctively moves to the dagger she already knows rests just inside her trouser pocket. She unclips the holster, just in case, as they make their way over.

Elphaba takes deep calming breaths as they get closer to the tavern. By now the voices of the men and women inside are loud and clear. She's not quite sure why Glinda is taking them inside and feels it appropriate to ask, "what are we doing here?"

After all, they are still very much wanted, and in a town this close to the City those inside the tavern will surely recognize them for who they are.

Glinda looks over to Elphaba, eyes squinting in the darkness, trying to search out the brown pair concealed beneath the hood of Elphaba's coat. "They may know what's been happening in the City since we left. Best to get an idea of what we're walking into, right?"

Elphaba agrees; it is the smart thing to do. They dismount and find a rail beside a neighboring building to tie their horses beside. Elphaba gives her steed an affectionate pat along his mane before falling into step next to Glinda and entering the open door to the tavern.

A hush falls over the bar as the woman enter, every eye in the room slowly roving over the two. Elphaba bristles at the attention, hands clenching by her sides. She can feel her magic just kissing the knuckles of her fingers, one thought more from her and chaos will ensue. Glinda remains calm, an easy yet challenging smile playing on her lips. It's obvious to her now why the town is thriving so. It's full of those quite in the same predicament as themselves. Those ostracized from the Emerald City. Outcasts, thieves, tramps... the lowest of society. A woman near the table in the far corner gives a scoff, muttering something about trousers before turning back to her friends. And with that the noise resumes once more and no one pays them any further attention.

Glinda takes Elphaba gently by the hand, leading her up to the old bar top. She eyes the few bottles of liquor lined up along the back wall. She never much had a preference anyway. "Excuse me?" she calls out to the owner, standing near the end of his bar chatting quite amicably with another man. He looks over, scratching as his massive chest as he quirks a brow at the pretty blonde pointing to his meager shelf collection. "Whatever you don't sell much of is fine, I don't want you to have to waste a perfectly good drink on a stranger."

"Two?" The man asks with a grin.

Glinda looks over to Elphaba, already knowing the green woman's answer before Elphaba gives her head a slight shake. "Just the one, thank you," Glinda tells him with what she hopes is an irresistible smile. If there is one person in a town such as this who would know what was going on it would be the one who'd have to hear all the gossip whether he wants it or not.

With a bit more polish the scruffy man pours Glinda a drink in a short and, she notes with a frown, dirty glass. He gives her a smile as he places it gently in front of her. Glinda feels the hairs rise on the back of her neck at the man's horridly yellow grin. "Just visiting, sunshine?"

Glinda grins, thanking Oz he's in a talkative mood. She feels Elphaba move closer, a hand placed over her lower back. Her cheeks warm at the touch which the oafish man ahead of her obviously notices if his smirk and leering stare are any indication.

"You could say that," Glinda says. "We're hoping to get to the City. We hear it's about the safest place left. Have you heard much?"

The man squints at her for a moment, eyes taking in her face before they dart to Elphaba and then back again. "You look mighty familiar…"

Elphaba's hand tenses along her spine. Glinda masks her growing trepidation with a sultry smirk in return. "I'm sure I do," she all but purrs out. And smoothly lies, "I'm sure you've seen my… _work_. In a certain publication that no longer is in print."

The effect is almost instantaneous. The man's face flushes as he pulls at his shirt collar; mouth quirking in and out of a smile as he refills Glinda's drink despite the blonde having never touched it.

Glinda slides the glass toward her, leaning along an elbow on the bar as she takes the drink and downs it in one gulp. The dark liquid burns at her throat, eyes watering as she sets the glass aside and taps a finger along the rim. "Another, would you please?"

The man nods, wetting lips with his tongue as he refills the glass, this time careful not to spill.

"So about the City?" Glinda asks again.

"O-oh!" The man stutters, nodding quickly. "Right! Yes, about that. It seems safe still, perhaps even safer now that the Wizard is dead."

Glinda sputters on the drink she's about to pour down her throat. Elphaba huddles closer, rubbing the blonde's back as Glinda coughs, staring incredulously up at the concerned man before her. "D-dead?" she exclaims in a hushed voiced. "How? Who? What happened?"

"Been out of touch long haven't 'cha sunshine?" the man chuckles. He leans against his bar, wiping the spittle Glinda sprayed along its top with a soiled rag. "It was one of his coordinators who did him in. Morphible, I believe? Or is it Morlible?"

"Morrible," Glinda breathes, hands sliding from the bar to hang by her sides at the shock of the news. Elphaba twines her hand with Glinda's, squeezing tight.

"Yeah! Her! So you do know what's happened then?"

Glinda shakes her head, still dazed, mind working furiously to figure out what's happened. Why would Morrible murder the Wizard? What would that bring to her?

The man grows serious as he leans over, stale breath washing over Glinda's face as he tells her, "He was the one responsible for bringing the Verdigris plague to us all. If you ask me he deserved to be tossed into a horde of them instead of executed by firing squad in the palace courtyard. Thank Lurline for Morrible. She'll set things right now."

Glinda downs the next two drinks the man pours for her in easy succession. She taps for another but Elphaba's hand shoots out, covering the top of the glass before the man can pour any more. When she reaches into her pocket to pull out some coins he tells her not to worry at the moment. He gives the blonde one last lingering stare before heading back to the corner of his bar to resume his earlier conversation.

Elphaba glares daggers at his retreating back, internally fuming at his downright obvious intentions toward Glinda. Glinda sways on her feet as she leans her weight into Elphaba's side, letting out a shaky breath as Elphaba wraps a steadying arm around her.

"You shouldn't have had so much," Elphaba mutters, voice gruff and layered with disdain still as her eyes never leave that of the barkeep. "I can't believe him."

"_Him?_" Glinda hisses, eyes unfocused and blurring with the arrival of tipsiness as she squints up into Elphaba's shrouded eyes. "How's about _her_? You know, Morrible who's killed the Wizard and sitting pretty up in the palace! How about we worry about _her_ and not some _idiot barkeep_?"

Elphaba feels her cheeks heat at Glinda's hushed and frantic words. She's right, of course, she thinks. This news is entirely unsettling. And while Glinda is in the dark as to why, Elphaba has a great deal of confidence she knows the reason Morrible has killed the Wizard.

"Sweet Oz," Glinda huffs as she places her hands out along the bar to steady herself and even her breaths. "I need another drink."

"No, you don't. I don't want a repeat of what happened last time." Elphaba says grabbing Glinda's hand before she can wave the horridly sleazy man back over. "This is my fault. If I'd never told Morrible the truth she wouldn't have gone after the Wizard."

"Wha'do-you mean?" Glinda asks, mind growing rapidly hazy as her confusion sinks ever further. "It's not your fall."

"Fault," Elphaba corrects without thought as she tells Glinda what transpired that afternoon in Upper Fanarra. She hadn't thought Morrible would go to such lengths. But knowing the woman as she does now, through Glinda's tales and her own personal experience, she realizes the vengeful headmistress would have of course gone after the Wizard. She has no loyalties, none aside from the ones to herself.

Which now begs the question that rolls off Elphaba's tongue, "What do we do?"

Before Glinda can answer another man leans his back against the bar beside the blonde, smiling audaciously at her as he asks, "Passing through or thinking of staying a while?"

"Ugh!" Glinda groans, glaring over at him. Her vision swims from the speed at which her head whipped toward him. She slams her eyes shut as she tells him, "Please leave."

"I'm Avaric," he continues, undeterred by Glinda's obvious distaste. "Let me buy you another drink."

"She's had enough, _thanks_," Elphaba growls, pulling the blonde closer. Glinda hiccups, blinking as she realizes Elphaba has just tried to fend off what she assumes to be a threat. Giggles overwhelm Glinda at the very thought. _Elphaba, jealous of him? _More giggles erupt from her throat.

Avaric seems unfazed by the drunken blonde before him. A bit scared, perhaps, but he believes he can handle this. _Just a little longer_, he thinks. "Then how about a drink for you?" he asks, turning his eyes to the disgruntled woman beneath the shawl. He's seen his fair share of strangers come through the town. He's not about to question her cover. Oz forbid it be another religious thing. He's still licking his wounds over that last unfortunate ordeal.

"Ooohhh Elphie, he wan's to buy you's a driiiinnkk," Glinda slurs, finding this entire ordeal far more hilarious then it presumably is. Elphaba makes a deep throaty noise that makes Glinda's skin prickle and her stomach twist delightfully.

Elphaba just wants to go.

"How's about it?" Avaric asks, reaching across the bar and taking one of the bottles from the shelf. He pours some into the glass, careful not to spill as he continues smiling dashingly over at the women.

Elphaba picks the drink up and pours it over Avaric's head. "_Leave us_," she tells him fiercely, grabbing the still very much giggling Glinda by the arm and dragging her toward the door. They barely make it three steps outside when Avaric rushes forward.

"Wait!" he shouts, grasping onto Elphaba's free hand and pulling her back.

Glinda hears Elphaba yelp, her senses sharpening at the pain in the small sound. She whirls on unsteady feet, lunging at Avaric with a cry as she grabs one of his arms and twists it up painfully behind his back. Avaric releases Elphaba, doubling over at the pain shooting up his arm from Glinda's hold. She brings her lips down over his ear, hissing clearly, "How about you leave her be and I'll just leave you with a broken arm, deal?"

Sweat dots Avaric's brow as his eyes dart out the alley and then down to the ground where they remain focused. He nods. But before Glinda can break his arm Elphaba shoots her hand out, stilling her.

"Please, let's just go," Elphaba pleads softly.

"Yes! That! Please!" Avaric manages to ground out between his clenched teeth.

"No, he's such an asssss," Glinda drawls out, tightening her grip and eliciting a whimper from Avaric.

"Please Miss! I'm sorry! Please, just spare my arm! I _need_ it!" Avaric implores.

"Oh, I'm _suuuure_ you do," Glinda slurs with a roll of her eyes.

Elphaba moves a step closer, towering over Glinda as she tells her. "You're drunk. Just leave him be, he's not worth it."

Glinda scowls down at Avaric as she lets him go with a shove. He scrambles away, darting through a nearby alley. Elphaba sighs as she looks down to Glinda. "Let's go, you need to sleep this off."

Glinda pouts, laying a floppy hand over Elphaba's chest when she tries to step around the blonde. "C'mere," she grins, pulling Elphaba's shawl down around her shoulders as she tries pulling Elphaba down for a kiss.

Tries because Elphaba pulls away before their lips can even brush. She doesn't want to indulge Glinda in her drunken state. Instead she takes the blonde by the hand, giving her an apologetic gaze as she leads her back to the horses.

Horses which she is quick to realize have been stolen.

Elphaba feels herself growing incensed. Not one single thing has gone right for her today. This is merely the proverbial final straw. She sits Glinda upon the ground. The blonde is happy to feel firmly planted in place instead of the buzzing dizziness which overwhelms her when she's on her feet.

"Stay put," Elphaba tells her, voice stern yet impossibly soft. She places a quick kiss to the blonde's temple before standing upright and fixing the shawl about her face.

And then Elphaba squares her shoulders, willing the anxiety creeping into her stomach to stay at bay. With one more look back to the now sleeping blonde and round the town where a few men stand guard with their rifles for the night, Elphaba stalks back into the bar, determined and grim faced. No one bats an eye when she enters this time, nor when she strides straight up to the barkeep, grabbing him by the shirt collar as she backs him up against his wall.

He gulps, visibly shrinking under the intensity radiating off the strange woman who holds him captive. "D-drink?" he asks hopefully.

"Our horses, where are they?" she demands, squeezing his shirt collar harder in her grip.

"I don't know!" the man says in a rush, eyes darting to his friend who shrugs and resumes his drink as if this is the norm. "It was probably Av-Avaric. That boy is always on the lookout for some!"

Elphaba lets the man go. "Where does he live?"

"North end of town, only farm left standing, you can't miss it," the man says between coughs, rubbing at his throat.

Elphaba backs away. "Thank you," she tells him and the man quirks a brow, thinking she sounded almost grateful, even kind just then.

But she's gone before he can say anything in response.

Or warn her that the farm is constantly being overrun with Undead. He gives a shake of his head figuring a girl like that can more than handle herself.

* * *

><p>Elphaba manages to wake Glinda and force some food and water into the blonde's stomach before they make their way down to the farm. It's just as the barkeep noted, the only one in town. A leaning barn stands to one side of the yard. The farmhouse is nearby: a large, dilapidated structure which looks about ready to collapse under its own weight. Bars crisscross every which way over the windows. Elphaba can't see any of the crops out in the fields, barren as they are. It's a piss poor farm, she thinks as she takes hold of Glinda's hand and they make their way down the overgrown walk under the light of the waning moon.<p>

As they pass one of the bigger trees dotting the walk a dog picks his head up from his position lying in the grass. His tail wags as he watches the two women walk before he plops back down and resumes sleeping once more.

"Some lookout," Glinda scoffs with a roll of her eyes.

"I can't believe he took our horses." Elphaba snarls.

Glinda, still fairly lightheaded and a bit dizzy, squeezes Elphaba's hand. "We'll get 'em back, Elphie."

Elphaba gives the blonde half a smile, rubbing her thumb over the back of Glinda's warm hand. "Yes, I intend to do just that."

"You?" Glinda asks, quirking a brow. "Just you? No me involved?"

"I can _handle_ him."

Glinda doesn't think she's ever swooned but hearing Elphaba sound so, well, so sure of herself… well, it makes her feel rather hot beneath her collar. "Where has this version of you been all this time?" Glinda asks as her cheeks flush. "It's rather… exhilarating."

Elphaba feels all the steely nerve inside her wane a bit at Glinda's words. She excites the blonde? _Excites_ Glinda? As in _aroused _excited and not just simple, everyday Undead-slaying excited? Elphaba is thankful for the shawl covering her face for she's sure Glinda's newfound appreciation for her resolve would vanish if she could see the way her face has turned deep green.

Once at the door, Elphaba knocks solidly against the old paint-flaked wood. After a few moments a man opens the door a peek. One scrutinizing green eye stares down at the two women through the crack. Glinda thinks the green is striking, not quite as striking as Elphaba but a color that gives her some oddly placed feeling of comfort. She's seen that shade before but merely brushes the coincidence aside. She much prefers Elphaba's green anyhow.

"Who are you?" the man asks, voice leaning more toward fearful than the boldness he's trying to portray.

Elphaba steps up. "I was told a certain _thief_ lives here. Avaric. He has stolen our horses and we-"

"Oh damn it all," the man sighs, interrupting Elphaba before she can continue much further. He opens the door, light pouring out onto the dilapidated front porch. Elphaba shies away, skirting herself along the edge. The man is in his pajamas; pajamas Glinda notes are three sizes too large. His face is sunken in a bit along the cheekbones, eyes a tinge hollow albeit sharp, such a sharp green. He carries himself tall, proud despite the squalor of his home. The disrepair of everything makes her think they once had money, long ago, before the Undead ever were. He reminds her a bit of her father…

Elphaba thinks he looks a bit like Avaric, only older, malnourished and far kinder if the small smile on his lips is any indication. "So you've met my son, eh?" he chuckles, inviting the woman inside. Elphaba stands resolute on the porch, the shadows of the night more comfortable to her than the cozy interior bathed in warm light.

"Avaric! Boy! Get down here!" The man shouts into the home. He turns back to the woman. "You sure you don't want to come in? I could fix you some tea. It's the least I could do after what my boy's done."

"Thank you, we're fine," Elphaba tells him.

"Are you cold?" he asks, nodding to Elphaba's shawl.

"No, sick is all. Don't want to spread whatever I may have," she explains quickly.

The man nods again, giving her a sympathetic look before turning back into the home and shouting for his son once more. Loud steps are heard on the stairs before a disheveled and surprised Avaric appears in the foyer, the color draining from his face when his eyes land on the women.

Avaric takes one look to his father and then back to the woman before letting out a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he tells the women, glancing to his father before continuing. "We had to take them! Every horse we've ever had always gets torn to pieces when those damn Verdigris show up. How else are we supposed to plow the fields? Water the crops? Feed this town? Our family? My father hasn't eaten in days so we coul-"

Avaric's father lays a hand upon his son's shoulder before he can say anything more. The younger man's jaw tightens, shoulders tensing beneath his father's grip. Avaric's frustration and fury calms with every breath. The older man turns to the girls. "I'm sorry for what's happened, please excuse my boy, he means well. Avaric, bring their horses round."

"How'd you do it?" Glinda wonders aloud before Avaric can take a step out the door.

"Do what?" he snaps, still upset by the fresh loss.

Glinda narrows her eyes at him. "You were in the tavern with us, who helped you take them?"

"My sister," Avaric shrugs. "She's probably with them now. Give me a clock tick and I'll bring them back."

"Wait," Elphaba says, Avaric now growing frustrated once more by their halts. "Keep them."

"_What_?" both Glinda and Avaric exclaim. Their gazes lock, confused. One is hopeful, the other borders on furious.

"You need them more," Elphaba tells the two men, silencing whatever protest may come from Glinda with a squeeze of her hand. "May we have our belongings though?"

Avaric feels shame swelling within him, eyes downcast at the kindness of this stranger. He can't understand why she's not upset like the blonde. Perhaps it's the shawl, he thinks. Perhaps she's hideous under there and this is all she has left to offer. Whatever the reason he gives a nod, promising to return with their things and thanking them both before he takes off down the yard.

Avaric's father is smiling brightly at Elphaba when she looks back up at him. "You have no idea what this will mean for us," he tells her, voice filled with compassion. "Thank you girls. Thank you so much. I insist you stay with us tonight, please, it's the least we can do to thank you. You never know when those bastard things will show up again, they've been especially horrid this month."

"We've dealt with Undead before and really must be on our way," Glinda says with a twinge of bitterness still in her voice. She leans out over to porch to see if Avaric is on his way back. Two figures with arms loaded to the brim walk slowly back, heads huddled as they converse. Glinda's eyesight is still a bit fuzzy but she swears the shorter of the pair looks familiar. Her attention is drawn back though when Elphaba says,

"We could use rest. We'll be staying, thank you."

Glinda shakes her head, turning her burning gaze up to Elphaba. "_No,_ we'll be fine out there."

Elphaba pulls Glinda aside, pleading with the blonde through her eyes. Avaric's father stands back, pretending not to hear when every word is more than clear in the small and quiet space. "The alcohol is still not out of your system. I want you safe, my sweet. Please, let us stay here for the night. We'll leave first thing at dawn."

Glinda cannot refuse Elphaba when she speaks with such concern and sense. She sighs, nodding her acceptance. Avaric's father beams, welcoming the women inside and excusing himself to fix a room for them for the night. As he disappears around a bend ahead. Elphaba wraps an arm around Galinda's shoulders, hugging the woman from the side and pressing a cloth-covered kiss to the top of her head.

"Thank you," she whispers.

Glinda snuggles into her side, her own arm sliding behind Elphaba's back. "If we wake up enslaved in Quadling ruby mines you are entirely to blame."

Elphaba chuckles, hugging Glinda closer. "I'll take that risk."

"Here's your things," they hear Avaric groan out from behind them as the places his armload of their supplies along the raised porch. He pokes at one strange object in particular. "Do you really need this broom?"

Elphaba pulls away from Glinda as she moves across to the porch to collect what's needed. "Yes," she tells Avaric as he turns the broom over in his hand. She grabs it from him before he accidentally shoots himself up into the sky.

"Blondie likes a clean camp huh?" he muses before turning to help his sister unload her pile.

Elphaba doesn't bother to respond as she busies herself with separating their things. It's obvious they won't be able to carry as much without the horses. Glinda joins her a moment later. Avaric's sister finally places her armful beside the two women, heaving a great breath as she steps back.

A chill settles along Glinda's spine at the sound, her body growing rigid, stomach twisting uncomfortably. Her eyes dart up over the pile, locking with the same striking green of Avaric's father. Green eyes that widen impossibly large in the spilled light from the home behind as the girl utters breathlessly, "Galinda…"

Elphaba stills upon hearing the name spoken so familiarly… _intimately_. Her own eyes are quick to take in the girl standing a few steps below them. The dark hair flowing down freely from her head, eyes starring so keenly up at Glinda's, skin tan under the glow of the warm light which seems to kiss her cheeks. Kiss them in ways light could never kiss her own. In ways Elphaba is sure Glinda has partaken with the girl before her. And when Glinda utters the girls name Elphaba feels as though her very heart is unraveling.

As if this is but the start to what is soon to be a painful end.

"Arria," Glinda breathes, absolutely stunned. Goosebumps rise along her arms underneath the sleeve of her blouse. She never imagined she'd ever see the girl again, let alone like this. Arria hasn't changed, aside from growing thinner if it were possible. All the feelings Glinda assumed would come rushing to her upon being faced with Arria cease to manifest, cease to be. She feels a pang of empathy for the girl staring so adoringly up at her, a fondness if she truly digs, but nothing more. Nothing like the burning she gets with Elphaba, like the need she feels just touching her, just being near her. She doesn't want to ask Arria an endless set of questions to uncover just how intricately her mind truly works. She doesn't want to kiss her senseless in a barren grassy field under fading starlight.

Glinda wonders when she turned into such a silly romantic.

But she knows why. She need only feel Elphaba's hand as it brushes beside her own, hesitant and worried, to understand. The girl below her, as fleeting and wonderful as their time together was, just doesn't compare to the one beside her. She just wants to wish Arria well, and pray that perhaps she finds someone to love as deeply and genuinely as she loves Elphaba some day.

She deserves that happiness too.

"You found me," Arria says, a shaky and large grin spreading across her lips.

"Wait," Avaric says, stepping up beside his sister and eyeing Glinda appraisingly from below. "_This_ is Galinda? You never told me she was so-"

"_Avaric_!" Arria hisses, blushing fiercely. She shoves her brother, who shrugs, chuckling as he moves up onto the porch.

"I'll just leave you ladies to get _reacquainted_, shall I?" he smirks and then taps Elphaba upon her shoulder. "This may take a while, join me for some tea? I have to warn you though, it's supremely vile."

"Girls! I have your room ready!" Avaric's father shouts from deep within the home. "First door along the hall when you come up the kitchen stairs!"

Avaric raises a suggestive brow at Glinda. "So you're staying huh?"

Elphaba curses at herself for ever agreeing to this.

"We really should be heading to bed," Glinda says quickly, gathering their necessary things awkwardly in her arms.

"Yes, _we_ should," Elphaba intones doing the same.

"Let me help you with that!" Arria exclaims, rushing up the steps as Glinda tries walking into the house with a bow slung around her neck, quiver dangling from the crook of her arm and one of the overflowing saddle bags hugged to her chest.

"I've got it," Glinda says, hoping her voice doesn't betray the strain of her concentration, especially given how the world seems to be titling just every so slightly to the left.

"I'll help her," Elphaba says, meaning for it to come out far less bitter and jealous than it actually does.

Arria takes a step back as the imposing shrouded woman comes to Glinda's aid instead. As they walk into the home she trails behind the two, still unbelieving that Galinda, _her_ Galinda is here now, that she found her after all this time. It's astounding. It's incredible, even, she thinks! She knows of what happened in the Emerald City, Oz everyone in town knows. She was the only one who refused to believe the papers. She believed in Galinda's innocence. And if the blonde ever found her again she vowed to keep her safe from the Wizard's men.

But that doesn't matter now. Despite her disdain for Morrible, the headmistress saw to it the Wizard met his due end. And now Galinda can be free without fear of the Gale Force who'd come through every so often hunting for her.

They can finally, _truly_ be together.

Glinda hurries her steps when she feels Arria drawing nearer. Elphaba hastens with her, eyes narrowing suspiciously down at the girl almost equal in height to her.

"Hey," Avaric says, halting Elphaba with a gentle hand placed over her shoulder. Elphaba whirls on her heels, glaring at Avaric as Glinda comes to a stop, Arria nearly walking straight into her. "How about that tea? The girls can have a clock tick to work things out and I can have a fascinatingly one-sided conversation with you."

Elphaba blanches.

Avaric smirks.

Arria grins impossibly wide and Glinda… Glinda cannot take this anymore.

"We're together," she says hastily, and adds as if it needs saying twice, "_together_." The word is spoken softly, impassioned and it rings loudly in the ears of both Elphaba and Arria. Glinda looks over to Arria, small smile on her lips as she tells her, "I'm sorry for the way things…" she trails off upon seeing the green eyes pleading with her in silent protest. Steeling herself, Glinda continues, stammering out, "Sorry for how I- you must understand I…I'm just sorry, Arria."

The younger girl swallows visibly, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth in an attempt to keep her emotions from completely shattering in the hall. She nods, eyes downcast, hair falling to curtain her face.

Glinda reaches forward, quiver slipping from her elbow and crashing to the floor. She pulls back sharply, surprised by her unusual clumsiness… she blames the drinks. She's about to bend to collect the fallen arrows when Arria beats her to it, hands nimble as ever as she scoops them back inside their holder and hands it to Galinda. Their hands brush, Arria's wet eyes darting up to meet Glinda's. The blonde can see the broken hope in those green eyes, the longing, but Arria turns before she can see anymore, dashing past Glinda and somewhere up the stairs in a flash of dark hair and fluttering skirts.

"Great," Avaric mutters. "Wonderful. She loved you, you know. You were all she ever talked about, and I hated you for what you did to her. But seeing you here know, thinking you were here to make things _right_," Avaric grunts, shaking his head as he levels his unwavering stare at Glinda. "Obviously I was mistaken. My father has offered you the night and if you know what's best you'll be gone before dawn. Otherwise so help me I may actually strike a girl for the first time in my life."

And with that he trails up the stairs, presumably to console the mess of heartache Glinda has wrought upon his sister.

Elphaba steps up to Glinda, laying a tender hand along the blonde's back. Glinda can't shake her eyes from the top of the stairs. From the last spot her past touched upon her present.

"We don't have to stay," Elphaba whispers to her quietly.

They spend the night huddled in an Inn just outside of town, Glinda crying softly into Elphaba's chest. And Elphaba holds her close; never saying a word, knowing the soldier needs this.

Needed to finally be freed from all the trappings that haunted her beautiful soul.


	20. Mortis Terminus

**AN:** The home stretch is here! Minor tweaks are in progress and I could post it all now if I wasn't so picky about rewrites haha. I said I'd have this all posted by Halloween and it most certainly shall be. And in order for this to happen you can expect an update every other day, starting today. Hope you all enjoy what's in store! Thanks for reading. :)

**Chapter 20**

_Mortis Terminus_

They walk, slowly Elphaba notes, along the train tracks leading south from Dixxi House. She's not quite sure where they are headed, especially now that the Wizard is no longer in power. But Glinda seems intent on their course, even despite her still swollen ankle. It seems to be faring better today, the blonde is able to support her weight well enough. Her steps are still cautious though, slightly irregular, even with the added help of Elphaba's broom standing in as a makeshift crutch. A cane more apt the description, Elphaba thinks, especially given the way the blonde holds it beside her, fingers griped tightly around the center.

Yet it's not the injury that concerns Elphaba presently.

It's that slight dip of Glinda's brow, an almost subtle crease that has nothing to do with the way she is squinting against the bright morning light.

Elphaba knows the previous night is still fresh on the blonde's mind.

Oz, she'd be concerned if it wasn't.

Once they settled at the Inn and Glinda's tears finally ran dry, the blonde told her everything of her relationship with Arria. It hurt to hear Glinda speak so softly of her time spent in the arms of another, especially while the blonde was wrapped up in her embrace. Elphaba doesn't think she's ever laid quite as still as she did then, just listening to Glinda speak, the blonde's fingers every so often toying with the collar of her blouse.

She didn't know why Glinda was telling her everything.

But she also knew the blonde wanted to.

No secrets, no pasts left unknown.

Glinda seemed lighter, almost, afterward. Her eyes were stained red from her earlier tears but bright nonetheless. Healed. She planted a kiss over Elphaba's heart and snuggled down around the green woman. Sleep quickly claimed her then; her deep breaths brushed against Elphaba's neck. Elphaba remained awake for a while longer, simply listening before she too succumbed to fatigue.

Glinda doesn't recall much of the night, just the raw feelings exposed that still linger in her chest, burning uncomfortably just under her skin. It's a wanted discomfort though; one she knows is for the best. Freeing.

Her ankle barely bothers her today because of it. And Elphaba is being ever so attentive, watching her from out of the corners of her eyes, mindful of every flinch that crosses her expression when her foot slides awkwardly over some of the rail rocks scattered in the grass. She always makes sure to show her appreciation for the hand Elphaba places on her back in support, giving the green woman a small grateful smile. Mostly she listens intently to what Elphaba is telling her.

The green woman's voice is light as she explains to Glinda what she knows thus far of magic.

"It's not something you focus upon so much as feel," she says. In her hand she manipulates a small pebble she picked up a few hours prior. It hovers above her palm for a few seconds and she smiles over at Glinda.

The blonde gives her half a grin back, the smile not quite reaching her eyes as it usually does. She appreciates what Elphaba is trying to do, distract her from sinking into her thoughts. But she need not worry. She's quite done dwelling on the past. She's just unbelievably exhausted. Physically and emotionally. This entire ordeal has wrecked complete havoc upon her body and mind. Her soul though, she thinks, has fared far better.

And she knows she has the woman beside her to thank for it.

Yet upon seeing the flash of hurt in Elphaba's eyes, presumably from her lackluster response, Glinda hobbles over, stopping Elphaba's steps as she holds the broom out in front of the taller woman.

Elphaba quirks a brow at action.

"I think," Glinda begins to say, taking a deep breath, filling her lungs with courage as she smiles and tells Elphaba, "I think I'm ready to try flying with you again."

* * *

><p>The sky is grey and thick with clouds spreading out before Elphaba almost endlessly. A summer storm is just starting to brew over the green grass plains of Southern Gillikin. Soaring amid the expanse of sky, she is lost in her freedom. A smile, wide and enthralled, hasn't slipped once from her lips since they took off. Thunder rolls through the clouds above and Elphaba's smile falters when she feels Glinda huddling into her back, the blonde's whimper almost lost to the wind rushing past.<p>

There is nothing that could have prepared Glinda for this. The first time was shocking enough, but now? There are just far too many words to describe how she feels. Elphaba's told her she finds it wonderful, exhilarating and free but for Glinda it is nauseating, cold and uncomfortable. Her arms are wrapped tightly around Elphaba's waist, muscles taut, unwilling to unclench even a fraction of an inch. She's sure if she moves she will plummet to her death. The last time she had feeling in her legs was when they took off (which must have been eons ago, she thinks). She is positive that if Elphaba were to turn around and look into her eyes she'd see the frightened little girl she certainly feels like. So Glinda buries her face in the back of Elphaba's shoulder, praying to Lurline that they land soon so her dignity may restore itself from the hole it's currently hiding in.

_Glinda's frightened_, Elphaba thinks, chest tightening with every shaky breath Glinda takes. Her eyes are instantly drawn to the ground far below. She needs to find them someplace safe. Reasonably safe, anyway. At the very least somewhere to protect them from the storm soon to break open above their heads. She scans the land, easily finding the train tracks she'd been dutifully following. Not too far ahead they run underneath what remains of a large station. A town in ruins stands just nearby.

It's not perfect, and quite possibly overrun with Undead, but Elphaba is confident they will be fine.

"Hold on, I'll bring us down," she tells Glinda, slowing the broom's pace and gently nudging it toward the shelter. She feels Glinda nod, hugging her close.

And when the blonde presses a kiss to the back of her neck Elphaba's earlier smile returns.

They land a few moments later. The rain is just finally starting to fall from the sky. It's light, barely a drizzle, but Glinda knows it will soon be pouring in thick sheets. Together they run the short distance to the forsaken train station ahead. Damp and with her ankle protesting all the way, Glinda walks cautiously around the destroyed platform, checking for signs of Unmentionables.

Elphaba trails behind her, broom wielded in her hands much like a staff. When Glinda is satisfied they are alone, she turns back to Elphaba, biting her lip to suppress the chuckle that wants to escape at how ridiculous the green woman looks brandishing her broom as she is.

"Plan to _sweep_ them to death, Elphie?" she teases, grinning as Elphaba blushes and lowers the broom back to a natural position by her side.

"Where are we?" Elphaba asks, leaning out over the platform to try and make out the sign hanging precariously by one chain from what's left of a ceiling beam. The first couple letters have long since fallen off and Elphaba reads the remaining letters aloud, "Iz' Terminus."

Glinda's eyes widen. "Shiz," she breathes.

Elphaba turns to Glinda, surprised by the blonde's wistful tone. "The University?"

Glinda nods, coming to stand beside Elphaba as they watch the sign sway in the breeze. "I used to dream of being a student here."

Elphaba smiles down at the blonde and extends her arm. "Well, then let's take a tour, shall we?"

Glinda chuckles, shaking her head as she says, "there's probably nothing left of it, Elphie."

"Still, it was a dream of yours once. It would be a shame to have come all this way and not at least set foot upon the campus."

"There could be Undead."

A devious smirk pulls at Elphaba's lips as she says, "well it's a good thing they can't fly then, isn't it?"

And pointing out the obvious Glinda adds, "it's also raining."

"Afraid of melting?" Elphaba muses, playfully poking the blonde's side. When Glinda squirms, a squeal erupting from her mouth, Elphaba laughs and wraps her arms around the blonde's waist. She pulls her close, mouth dipping to brush over one of Glinda's ears as she whispers, voice full of mirth, "And since when has a little storm stopped us before? Come on, my sweet. Let's go indulge the curiosity and for one afternoon pretend in dreams and ever after."

* * *

><p>They're airborne a few moments later, flying at a slow pace through what remains of the small town just outside the school. Neither girl is surprised when a few Unmentionables stumble out from an old destroyed shop, ravaged hands reaching skyward toward the women. Elphaba tightens her hold on Glinda sitting in front of her, urging the broom forward faster. The last thing she wants is for those soulless beasts to follow them.<p>

Though it seems it wouldn't make a difference. For when Elphaba turns to spare a glance over her shoulder at them, they've retreated down the street, mindlessly letting their legs carry them toward the station. She finds their behavior odd. Since when do they pass up the chance for a meal?

But she attests the Undead's sudden indifference to their altitude. Perhaps the Undead were smarter than she gave them credit for. At one point they had high functioning cognizant thoughts. They were, after all, human once. And even the dimmest of Ozians could still thrive. They could survive, adapt. The Undead obviously realized it was futile to even attempt pursuit.

Could they too learn?

Could they adapt?

"I told you there would be nothing left," Glinda whispers and Elphaba is pulled from her thoughts as she turns back around. Ahead stands Shiz, or what is left anyway. Elphaba's never seen a picture of the campus, just recalled it mentioned in a few of her books. In passing mostly, an antidote here or there about a scholar's studies.

But Glinda has. Glinda used to pour over the old and crumpled pamphlets she found once at the bottom of a neighbor's trunk. The family had been evicted from Mottica, their belongings distributed among the remaining townspeople. Whilst everyone fought over the family's trinkets, treasures and other useless material wealth Glinda had no inclination for, she sat, clutching the faded pamphlet outside her home.

She coveted that small book.

Coveted the promises of a future she could only dream of sharing in.

She's memorized this place and even in ruin directs Elphaba exactly where she wishes to go.

"Look, just there," she points ahead to where a small cluster of tress still stand inside an overgrown quad, the archways of the corridors the only remaining structures of the once magnificent sorcery buildings. "This is where I would have studied."

Elphaba lowers them gently to the tall grass, the blonde taking her hand once they've both dismounted. She leads them under a scorched brick archway into what once was a classroom at some point in time. A few stray pieces of the chalkboard are scattered about the floor, stuck beneath charred bits of desks and ceiling tiles. The rain falls lightly, barely dotting their skin, as they stand under the grey sky in an imaginary present that never came to be.

Glinda squeezes Elphaba's hand and tells her softly, "You'd have been a far better student. I probably would have been exceedingly jealous," she chuckles.

Elphaba blushes, touched by Glinda's admission yet certain otherwise. "I probably never would have been allowed beyond the gates so you wouldn't have had to worry your pretty little head about it."

"Why? Because you're green?" Glinda scoffs, shaking her head at the absurdity of the remark as she leads them further into the ruins. "No one would probably have cared about your color before the plague. And it's hardly an excuse to deny you, especially with your abilities. I can imagine you here," she smiles, motioning to the space surrounding them. In her head she can vividly see the green woman sitting in one of the many polished wooden desks, pouring over a lengthy text.

Elphaba feels herself smiling down at the wistful expression that has bloomed across Glinda's face. "What am I doing, my sweet?"

"Reading," Glinda answers. She looks up at Elphaba and for once the smile on her lips touches her eyes. "Right here. Or in the library just over there actually… or perhaps under that tree. Or there by the- I have no idea why all I seem to be able to imagine is you with your nose buried in a book."

Elphaba chuckles. "It's a pretty accurate depiction I'd chance."

Some twigs snap from behind and both woman turn at the sound, unsurprised to find a lone Unmentionable gaining speed toward them. Glinda groans and shoots it down with an arrow through one of it's decayed eyes. The creature flails, body crashing hard to the ground before it finally dies, blood pooling quickly beneath its torn skin.

"I hate them. They ruin _everything,"_ Glinda grumbles, handing Elphaba her bow as she hobbles over to extract her arrow. Once cleaned along the grass she slips it back into her quiver and makes her way back to where Elphaba stands, watching her intently. "Come on, Elphie," she takes the green woman's offered hand and leads them from the ruins. "Lets find someplace to stay for the night."

They find a few of the buildings to the south of the campus still partially standing. One in particular, an old dorm, seems stable enough. They crawl in through a broken window and make their way upstairs where they settle in room 22 and lock themselves in for the night. By now the rain is relentless, falling hard just outside their fogged and dirty window. Every so often a streak of lightning fills the dark sky, the contorted shapes of the Undead in the quad below outlined by the flash. The sound of the rain drowns out their cries, masks their horrid stench.

Elphaba is still worried though, watching them through a patch she wiped clean on the glass. What if they found a way inside? They seem restless. Capable.

"There's only a handful Elphie, it's hardly a situation," Glinda tells her as she unfurls their remaining bedroll.

Elphaba turns to look at Glinda from over her shoulder. "Should you take care of them?"

Glinda shakes her head, "They can't get up here so what's the point?"

"But there's so many."

"Exactly. The last thing I want to is to get them all riled. I'd waste all my arrows having to kill them and then what? I need these for when we get to the City."

Elphaba doesn't want to think about what the arrows will be used for there, instead she offers, "I could try using magic on them."

Glinda sits up straighter. "No, Elphie, you don't need to," she waves the question off before growing concerned and quirking a curious brow Elphaba's way. "Oz, why are you so intent on killing right now?"

Another bolt of lightning explodes behind Elphaba as she shouts to be heard over the thunder. "Because I don't want to chance them being able to hurt you again!"

As the light fades and darkness descends into the small dorm, Glinda stands up from the bedroll and holds out a hand for Elphaba to take. Elphaba hesitates, taking one last look to the Undead below before she moves the few steps forward, slipping her hand over the blonde's offered palm. Glinda pulls her close, hugging Elphaba tightly as she whispers fiercely. "I don't want you to be like me, Elphie. I hope you understand that. I just want you-"

"To be safe," Elphaba finishes softly for her. "I know, my sweet. I want the same for you."

Glinda squeezes her, burying her face along Elphaba's shoulder. "If killing them would help us I would but it'll only make things worse and I _can't_ lose you to them."

"You won't," Elphaba insists, brushing her lips over Glinda's forehead. She pulls away a bit, smiling as she says, "I can take care of myself. I've been practicing a bit too as well, see?"

And with a subtle twist of her wrist, the once empty and ash riddled fireplace springs to life, soot glowing amber as familiar blue flames lazily rise from the floor. The fire burns slow, casting a soft light over the room.

Glinda stares in wonder at the enchantment.

Elphaba stares in wonder at the woman before her. At the way Glinda's once pale skin has been tinted blue… Elphaba's skin, for once, matches that of the blonde.

"You're incredible," she hears Glinda whisper. The soldier looks up, blue eyes meeting the dark of Elphaba's brown. "I believe I've told you that right? If not I-"

Elphaba pulls her close, pressing their lips together, silencing Glinda with a kiss. When she pulls back both women don small grins. "You have," she says. "And for what little I feel my word is worth I feel the same about you."

Glinda's smile falls as she shakes her head. "Don't say that."

"What? How incredible I think-"

Glinda cuts her short. "No, not that. That bit where you seem to believe your words are worthless," she tells her, reaching up to stroke her hand over Elphaba's cheek. "They are anything but Elphie. They mean everything to me."

Elphaba leans into the touch, the blue flames burning brighter for just a second. "You're the only one that hears them; of course they are to you."

Glinda kisses her softly. "I want you to believe in them too."

Elphaba holds tighter to the blonde. "How can I Glinda? How are we supposed to fix all of this? Why are we even bothering?"

Glinda holds Elphaba's face in her hands, waiting until Elphaba meets her steady gaze before she says, "Because it's what's right."

Elphaba's eyes fall closed as she lets out a long breath. "I don't know anymore…"

"We can stop Morrible."

"How?" Elphaba asks, eyes once more staring intently down at the blonde.

"I… we'll… I'm not sure," Glinda confesses and Elphaba takes a step away. Glinda's heart clenches. "Yet! Elphie, I'm not sure yet!"

The fire flickers hotter, brighter than the flash of lightning outside the window.

"Glinda, if we continue to the Emerald City tomorrow we're walking straight to our deaths! The Wizard is dead! What more is there we can do?"

Glinda steps forward, reaching for Elphaba's hands. "We stop her! She's planning something and we're the only ones who know the truth!"

"Everyone already knows the truth! _They know_! So why go after her?" Elphaba asks, pulling away. She doesn't understand what Glinda is still fighting for. What more is there for them? They have each other, isn't that enough? Will it ever be enough…?

There is a pause. The storm is receding, thunder still rumbling through the sky, softer now. The cries of the Undead shriek loudly from below; the fire in the hearth sparks with every screech.

Glinda swallows down the hurt threatening to rise from her gut and consume her whole. She hugs herself with one arm, gripping the sleeve of her blouse with her hand. "She took you from me, Elphie." At the quiver in the blonde's voice Elphaba feels her stomach knot, a pang of guilt stabbing straight through her heart. Their eyes meet, tears collecting in blue while brown look on, pained. "Do you know how hard it was for me to leave you with her?"

Elphaba casts her eyes down. "I asked you to."

"Still," Glinda whispers, voice growing stronger. "Knowing she could do that again I… I can't risk that. I can't risk losing you to her, not now that she knows how powerful you are. Oz, you could _die_ if she ever forced you to use your magic to its fullest extent! I _have _to stop her."

Elphaba's jaw tightens as she realizes what Glinda intends to do. "Kill her you mean."

"Yes."

The fire in the hearth extinguishes with a hiss.

"No," Elphaba says.

"_What_?" Glinda exclaims.

"You're not going to kill her."

"She'll hunt you down if I don't!"

Elphaba rushes forward, gathering a very much-shocked Glinda into her arms as she tells her ardently. "Then let's go somewhere she can't find us. Somewhere far from here! I've heard Fliaan is untouched, we could live there, you and I, together. We-"

Glinda doesn't want to hear anymore, pushing away from Elphaba as she replies with just as much passion, "Fliaan has been overrun for years! There is no such _thing_ as untouched! It's a naïve hope fed by those in power to people like _you!_"

Silence follows the heated words.

In the darkness neither can see the eyes of the other. Nor the hurt now flashing in both. Nor the tears… the unspoken yet evident apologies.

Glinda breaks first. "Elphie, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Give me a reason," Elphaba says, voice low, a powerful quality to her demanding tone. Glinda flinches at the sound but moves closer to where she can vaguely make out Elphaba's shape in the dim light of the moon streaming in through the window. "Give me a valid, structured reason and without question, I'll follow you."

Glinda doesn't know if she can. All she wants is to know Elphaba will be safe. Always. How can she live constantly looking over her shoulder, fearing the day Morrible will find them and take everything from her? So when Glinda speaks next, the words are not built from logic, but spoken straight from her heart. "You once told me it was silly to think that someone powerful could cast a storm over all of Oz and end the plague once and for all. Because it would be at the cost of thousands of innocent lives. Morrible coveted that book for a reason Elphie and while she may not be planning a storm she's planning something. Something that I'm sure will stop those beasts, but at what cost? Don't you see? We can't just run away. Nowhere is safe from her if she gains that power. _We'd _never be safe. And with the Wizards library at her disposal it's only a matter of time until she finds what she's looking for. I can't let her gain that power. I can't let her hurt you…"

In their small, thin bedroll they huddle together. The Undead outside their window screech into the night, dead voices crying out in hunger. The women cloistered inside the dorm ignore them. Glinda holds Elphaba close, so afraid of what's to come but seeking solace in the way Elphaba is pressed against her, nestled so safely in her arms. That she is here, _with her_. She kisses the back of Elphaba's neck, lips brushing ever so lightly over the sensitive skin just below a green ear. She whispers words of adoration, of promise.

Elphaba is unsure of what will come once they reach the City tomorrow. But she's not afraid of the unknown. Glinda is right. They can't run away. And as the blonde grows tired, touches ceasing as she succumbs to sleep, Elphaba turns over and gathers the exhausted soldier into her arms.

She did, after all, vow to keep her safe.

* * *

><p>They make it to the Emerald City by nightfall, glad the storm of the previous night still clouds the sky and casts the land below into obscurity. Under the cover of darkness Elphaba guides them past the Emerald Palace. The structure gleams in the waning light that spills from the windows and dots the façade. Elphaba is careful not to get too close, sure they will be spotted if the light were to fall upon their bodies. Instead she keeps their distance, leaning the broom in a curve around the tall spires until the sight they find behind the Palace nearly causes Elphaba to crash them into the roof. Regaining control, she stills their ascent, hovering high above the Palace gardens. Both girls' hearts hammer solidly against their chests.<p>

For what once were the Wizard's prized gardens have now been transformed beyond recognition. They stare down in shock at what Morrible has created: at the thousands of Unmentionables that stand, trapped behind thick metal fences rising high into the air. Guards positioned atop watchtowers monitor the unruly horde from high above, arrows fired every so often at the few Undead who manage to crawl up the containment wall.

"You suppose they're for experiments?" Elphaba asks, voice quivering.

"Perhaps," Glinda answers in much the same tone. Both women tear their eyes away as a guard is shaken from his stand and falls below to his death. Clutching Elphaba tighter, Glinda points ahead to where she wishes the green woman to take them. As Elphaba urges her broom from the Palace Glinda asks, "but why keep so many?"

Elphaba shudders as she counters, "_Where _do you get so many?"

The streets below are empty as they fly toward Glinda's apartment. Their faces stare back up at them from the hundreds of wanted posters hung throughout the city. New sheets, Elphaba notes, ones with a better likeness of her… ones emblazed with Morrible's signature. They aren't safe anywhere. Not with the campaign for their capture still very much active. And they soon realize just how active it is upon reaching Glinda's apartment. A small contingent of men stand posted outside the door. Men donning the uniform Glinda knows well is only supplied to the most elite of the forces.

Every so often a few look to the skies, eyes flittering just over the dark shape they create blending into the clouds.

Elphaba grows incensed at the sight. At the knowledge that Morrible was expecting them. But her anger is quickly diminished, replaced with an unrelenting chill that digs into her bones as she realizes there is only one safe place left in the City where Morrible is _sure_ to not have posted guards.

And where guards were surely viciously turned away in their search if they were.

Because Elphaba knows her father well, knows that to him she is solely _his_ property.

It is with great courage and a frantically beating heart that Elphaba guides them to the Consulate. The lights are doused inside the old building, street empty of Gale Force... empty of any life. Glinda senses the shift in Elphaba's demeanor, her once questioning expression turning to dismay as she realizes where Elphaba has taken them.

"Not here, Elphie," she pleads, moving her hands to cover the green woman's, desperate to pull them in a different direction. For Oz sake the alley would be better than this! Despite her efforts Elphaba holds their course, bringing the broom level with her old attic window. The storm above finally begins to let free its heavy burden as rain falls down onto the eerily quiet city. The patter of the drops along the roof masks the sound of the window rising in its creaky frame. Steeling her nerves, Elphaba climbs inside first, holding the broom steady as she helps Glinda through next.

The chill Elphaba felt before above Glinda's apartment seems to cloak her entire body now as she steps inside her old room. Nothing has been touched, her lump of a bed is still neatly made; the crumbled box of her meager possessions still left open. Elphaba rests the broom along the wall beside the windowsill, letting their belongings fall gently to the floor at her feet. She feels a growth spread across her chest, something vile clutching at her heart as she realizes she's back.

Back in the place she swore never to return.

Glinda can feel the charge in the air, Elphaba's power manifesting at the rush of emotions that must be overwhelming her. She takes the two steps separating her from Elphaba and hugs the woman tightly from behind. She doesn't have to ask to know what Elphaba is feeling.

The pain she knows the green woman must be enduring.

That she's willing to suffer it to ensure their safety is testament enough to the type of person that Elphaba truly is.

Glinda refuses to let the woman she loves be tormented so.

"I can find us an Inn," she tells her quietly, knowing how hard it must be for the green woman to be back here. "We still have some of Fiyero's money left. Anything is better then here, Elphie."

"You saw the posters," Elphaba says, voice filled with the myriad of emotions raging so strongly inside her she's not sure how she can manage to stay standing under their pressure. She wants to leave. Grab Glinda, get back on her broom and just flee. She'd rather face the wrath of the soldiers then be back here.

Rather Glinda have to kill them than to risk seeing her father again.

_No_, Elphaba thinks to herself. _No one else need die for her. For them._ This is the only safe place left. The only way she can ensure Glinda be safe tonight. Tomorrow night, and for however many nights it will take them to make things right. She dreads the number. Dreads having to stay in this prison she called home for so long. But she will for the blonde.

She just hopes Frexspar never ventures up here.

Why would he?

If anything the dust that has collected along her floor is proof he has not once set foot in her room since she's fled.

A sense of calm settles over Elphaba as that thought sinks in. He has no reason to climb up here any longer. So long as they are quiet, they are safe. She turns in Glinda's arms, the blonde surprised and concerned by the lack of tension that was once pulling at Elphaba's body.

"It's all right, my sweet," Elphaba whispers, capturing Glinda's lips in a tender kiss. When she pulls away the blonde is no more assured, though somewhat more relaxed in Elphaba's embrace. "We'll be safe here."

"Elphie, but your father-"

"Could care less for me," Elphaba tells her thickly. "He hasn't been up here, and he has no reason to."

Glinda whimpers as Elphaba kisses her again, this time far deeper. As they part, both breathless, Elphaba stares down at Glinda, willing for her to trust her. Glinda nods at the silent plea, burying her face in the crook of Elphaba's neck as she hugs the woman close. With one more kiss Elphaba moves to fix her bed for them for the night. The rain pours harder outside, little leaks in the ceiling dripping down onto their supplies. Glinda is quick to move their things, and even quicker to quell thoughts of Elphaba having once had to endure living in such conditions.

All because of her bastard father.

If it were up to Glinda she would stalk right down to his bedchambers and slit his throat as he sleeps.

She knows Elphaba would never forgive her if she did.

But what if the green woman didn't know? She could easily slip out once Elphaba fell asleep and end her father's life without the green woman being any wiser. _He deserves to die_, Glinda thinks. He deserves to suffer, deserves her blade pushed slowly into his heart. She will tell him why she's ending his life. She will tell him it's for all he's done, all the pain he inflicted upon his beautiful daughter.

Glinda is quiet as Elphaba hands her some food to eat, her thoughts simply filled with the demise of the man residing somewhere below. Elphaba is worried about the intense look in Glinda's eyes, the glint of malice flickering in the deep blue. It's the same look that marred Glinda's otherwise soft gaze that day in front of the train. She steals a kiss from the brooding blonde, hoping the small show of affection will pull her from her thoughts.

Glinda gives her a smile that once again does not reach her eyes as she says, "we really should get some sleep. We have a lot of prep ahead of us tomorrow."

Elphaba sinks into the bedroll laid over her old bed, making space for Glinda who slips in beside her. She tries to stay awake for as long as she can, holding Glinda close, willing the blonde not to leave her as she fears Glinda will the moment sleep overtakes her.

"Don't," she whispers softly when she feels Glinda running her fingers gently through her hair. The feeling is soothing, lulling her faster into sleep. "I know what you're doing. Don't go after him."

"I'm not," Glinda tells her just as softly, kissing Elphaba languidly as she continues running her hands through the dark tresses. She can see Elphaba's eyelids growing heavier at her comforting touch, breaths deeper. _I'm sorry Elphie_, she thinks to herself. And once the green girl's eyes finally close and she's sure Elphaba has fallen into a deep slumber, Glinda untangles herself from Elphaba's embrace and stands just beside the bed. "I love you," she mouths.

And with that she silently leaves the attic, dagger in hand, and intent on finding the throat it was made to cut.

* * *

><p>Elphaba is torn from her sleep as a bolt of lightening crashes outside, the thunder rattling her window in its wake. Her heart races as she sits up in bed, the flashes of the storm flickering before casting the room back into darkness.<p>

But not before her eyes fell on the empty spot in the bedroll.

Her heart does more then race, she swears it feels like it's trying to claw its way up her throat. She swallows thickly, her nerves frayed as she gets up from the bed. The spot beside her was still warm, Glinda couldn't have gotten too far. Without pause she rushes out the door and down the attic stairs, quickly making her way to her father's rooms clear on the opposite side of the Consulate. She tries collecting her breath, careful not to make a sound as she peeks inside the dark room.

The bed is empty. Glinda is nowhere to be found.

A rush of relief rolls through her, nearly making her dizzy as she leans her back against the wall. It is a short lived feeling though. For their absence only strikes a deeper chord within her. A merciless trepidation gripping her heart. _Where could they be_? Where else would her father be at this hour aside from his room? It is well past midnight, nearly dawn! Her heart skips as she realizes he may still be in his lab.

But upon reaching the room she finds it just as empty.

With light, quick steps she moves back upstairs, intent on checking each and every room along the second floor corridor. But as she makes her way to the main stairs a small, barely audible clink reaches her ears. Elphaba stills. Her hand, so close to touching the rail, stops, hovering just inches above the faded and once opulent wood. Small goosebumps rise along her skin at the sound, breaths falling short. She turns toward the noise, hearing the clink again as she makes her way to the kitchens.

The noise is familiar. Silverware. The sound of someone eating.

When Elphaba peeks through the doorway she must repress the gasp that nearly sucks past her lips. Inside, sitting slumped over a meager meal, is her father. He's an unshaven mess of a man, clothes rumpled, hair matted along his pale forehead. Elphaba tries backing away slowly, careful her steps not make a sound, but as if sensing her very presence Frexspar's eyes flitter up, the shadow of his prominent brow lowered over equally dark eyes upon the sight of his daughter.

"Where have you been?" he demands, voice gruff, unused. He roughly pushes aside his plate and stands to his feet in one swift move. Elphaba stumbles as she hastens her steps, recoiling at the unforgiving scorn she can hear dripping from his every word. As her back meets the wall she feels much like the girl who used to call this a home; who used to shrink in fear of the man before her; who used to endure all his failings as a father.

"Answer me!" Frexspar hisses, now mere paces from Elphaba.

Elphaba says nothing, head bowed. She clenches her trembling fists by her side, preparing for the inevitable hit she knows is soon to come. _Stand up_, she wills herself. _Don't cry. Stand up to him!_

When Frexspar places a sharp, painful slap to her cheek, Elphaba winces, cringing at the sting exploding across her face. But she stands her ground, straightening taller as she looks square into her father's eyes for what feels like the first time in all her life. A flash of surprise shines in Frexspar's glare at his daughter's defiance. He moves to slap her again but Elphaba catches his wrist before he can bring his hand down to strike her once again.

His eyes widen, more than surprised by the strength of her grip.

"Where I have been _doesn't concern you,"_ she tells him evenly, voice low and impassioned. Her eyes narrow into his, the years of repressed anger and hurt boring straight into what remains of Frexspar's soul.

He flinches under the intensity before he snarls, wrenching his hand free of her tainted skin as he growls, "_You will answer me_!" And spits out icily, "Or I will—"

"_No_," Elphaba's voice rumbles deeply as she steps up to her father. She wills her hands to stop quaking so; wills the fear still clutching at her heart to subside as she tells him, "I am of age and have been for some time now. As such that leaves _me_ the sole heir to Munchkinland. The sole proprietor to _this_ estate. I will not answer to you, _not anymore_."

Frexspar stares at his daughter, eyes wide before a crinkle appears in the corners of them, shortly followed by his boisterous, mocking laughter. "You've ruined whatever life you could have had. Spectacularly at that," he muses and then his gaze grows serious, eyes once more dark and full of contempt. "You have _nothing _left. _Nothing_. So get back down in my lab and-"

"_No!_" Elphaba growls, pushing away as Frexspar tries to grab her. "There's nothing left to discover! I'm not the cure!"

"You are!" Frexspar counters, lunging for Elphaba as she ducks under his arms and runs into the kitchen. She makes it quickly to the door, hands trembling as she works to undo the lock. Behind her she can hear Frexspar fumbling in a drawer, pulling something out with a sharp _schink!_

Elphaba stills at the sound. A knife. Her father has a knife!

"No matter. You're just as useful to me dead!" she hears Frexspar hiss out, his footsteps rushing forward just as she pries the door open. The rain pelts her face as a gust of wind whips into the kitchen. Frexspar slams into her back. Elphaba falls to the steps below, head exploding with a fresh wave of pain as her body is crushed against the unrelenting stone. Her vision swims, rain blurring her sight as she feels hands grab her by the ankle, dragging her back into the kitchen.

Elphaba squirms against the slick floor, hands desperate to find purchase on the smooth tiles. She kicks out, landing a hit to her father's knee. He screams in pain as the bone breaks with a loud crunch. She scrambles to her feet, slipping along the wet floor as she tries to run back into the Consulate, desperate to find Glinda.

But Frexspar launches himself at her again, this time tackling Elphaba to the ground, her body pinned beneath his thicker weight. He forces her to her back, blood soaking his pajama bottoms as he digs his knees into her stomach. She squirms beneath him, voice lost somewhere deep in her throat as she frantically pushes against his wrist wielding the knife just above her heart.

"_Worthless_," he grunts, sweat dotting his brow, face paler than ever at the injury he's sustained. He represses his pain in favor of the all-encompassing desire he has to finally end the life that's burdened him him she's everything that is wrong with his life. Why his wife is dead, why his home has burned, why he must suffer this existence in squalor! The Unnamed God has been cruel to him. But no more. He can take this no more.

He shoves the blade down hard; the tip just barely presses down against Elphaba's chest.

With a scream she pushes hard up against his assault. Flames erupt from her hands, licking at Frexspar's skin. He cries out, knife dropping from his burnt fingers. They both scramble to the fallen weapon, diving over one another for the blade. Elphaba feels an elbow jabbed to her gut. Her side erupts with a fresh wave of pain as the sutures give against the blow. A glint of metal shines in a flash of lightning. The blade is back in Frexspar's hands. Elphaba rushes forward, hands blazing as she grabs hold of her father's wrists before he can bring the knife down upon her head.

"Elphaba!" Glinda's voice rings out from far in the home, frantic and loud. "ELPHIE!"

Frexspar slashes at Elphaba; the green woman barely evades the deadly blade, eyes focused as they are on the kitchen entrance. As Frexspar swings at her again she lunges forward, grabbing a hold of his wrist once again as they tumble onto the table. Elphaba groans as they land against the surface, a dinner fork digging into her arm. He shoves her off. The plate and silverware crash to the floor beside her, fragments of the dish scattering across the tiles. Before her mind can clear she finds herself once more pinned to the floor below her father.

He wheezes above her, eyes shinning with madness. The insanity that used to appear fleetingly has fully consumed him now. A glint of metal catches her eye to the side. The fallen silverware; a dirty dinner knife. She reaches for it, fingers just barely brushing the cold steel. With a guttural yell Frexspar brings the knife high above his head, far out of the reach of Elphaba's enflamed hands. Just as she takes hold of the knife he brings his own blade down.

She closes her eyes tight, stabbing upward with a burst of magic.

The knife pierces his frantically beating heart. Blood pools quickly on his shirt. Frexspar's eyes are wide, mouth agape, as the knife in his own hands falls harmlessly to the floor below. Elphaba's own eyes are wide, blue flames still swirling around her hands, heating the metal of the knife clutched in her grasp. The burning blade which is now buried deep in her father's chest.

The magic extinguishes. Frexspar winces at the pain.

She pants, frozen with fear as he takes his last breath above her. He grows slack, eyes rolling back as his body falls, dead, atop Elphaba.

She can feel his warm blood seeping onto her blouse, staining the material and pressing hot against her skin. Her stomach turns, a foul taste settling along her tongue as she realizes what she's just done. Her body begins trembling, heart beating a frenzied rhythm against the back of her ribs. Tears flood her vision as she hesitantly tries to push the body off, pleading for the death not to stain her soul so.

As Frexspar's body finally rolls aside after a panicked shove, Elphaba scurries back on her hands, spine slamming against a nearby wall. She brings her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around her legs, shuddering breaths making her lightheaded. She can't tear her eyes away from the body. From the first life she's taken. A death she's caused of her own free will. His blood stains her blouse; she can smell the life-giving liquid, _feel it_ still warm and sticky against her skin. She stares, fixated on what she's done.

Her eyes widen as she hears her father groan, his fingers twitching back to life. He begins moving, hands fumbling to raise his broken body from the ground. Elphaba begins shaking anew as she realizes what's happening. _It's too fast_, she thinks. _He can't be one of them yet!_ And as his glazed eyes lock with her own, Elphaba knows there is no other explanation. The Undead version of her father stands to his shattered leg, knife still buried deep inside his dead heart.

Before he can even take a step another knife is quick to embed itself into his skull, eyes rolling back once more as her father's body crumbles, dead forever to the kitchen floor.

"Elphie," Glinda calls to Elphaba softly, kneeling beside her. She curses herself for not getting here sooner. Hearing Elphaba's voice echoing so painfully through the empty halls was pure torture. Her legs couldn't carry her fast enough down the corridors. The Consulate was a veritable maze to navigate in the dark! _Should have never left the attic_, she berates herself. She should have stayed as Elphaba asked. This never would have happened. She knew the instant she burst into the kitchen what that knife sticking from Frexspar's chest meant.

Elphaba had killed him.

Elphaba lowers her head between her raised knees, hugging her legs closer to her shivering body. Glinda understands all too well the emotions overtaking the girl on the floor beside her. The overwhelming sense of power at having taking the life of another and all the pain and remorse soon to follow. But Elphaba is different, Glinda thinks. Elphaba doesn't hurt others.

To Elphaba a part of her is darkened forever. There is no going back from what she has done… what she has taken from her father. She had vowed to herself never to harm another and yet the blood stains her skin, his body lies motionless before her… it's all too much. It's too fresh. The tears come quickly.

"_Anywhere_," Elphaba manages to say between her choked sobs. "N-not _here_."

* * *

><p>Beside a decrepit Philosophy Club near the far walls of the City they find an abandoned Inn. Some Gale Forcers patrol the street outside but their eyes wander to the inhabitants of the club, to the deviants of the night beckoning them inside. Glinda is careful to use the cover of thunder from the waning storm to break open a window along the alley. She pulls Elphaba inside the vandalized Inn. The green woman is numb to the world as she follows Glinda up the steps and inside a dingy old room.<p>

Elphaba is in desperate want of a bath and manages to utter so to the concerned blonde. She wants to rinse the filth and pain that seems to be soaking into her skin. Wash the blood from her very soul. Glinda hurries, scrambling through their pack to gather the small amount of bathing supplies Fiyero's staff had prepared for their journey. They have no towels but their blanket will do. She guides Elphaba to the small tub in the adjoining washroom. There is barely enough room for one person in the closet-sized space. Glinda helps Elphaba to undress, the green woman's hands are shaking far too much, her eyes staring blankly ahead.

Glinda works quickly to undo Elphaba's buttons, slipping the girl's blouse over her shoulders. She steals a glance up, hoping for Elphaba to have returned, for the green woman's cheeks to flush as they always do when her skin is on display as it is now. But Elphaba remains quiet, eyes focused to the wall ahead. Glinda bites her lip, her own urge to cry overwhelming as she moves to help Elphaba from her trousers.

She feels Elphaba's hands, impossibly warm as they wrap around her own, stilling her motions. When she looks up into the green woman's face she astounded by the depth of the girl's pain staring back at her.

"You can go," Elphaba says, voice barely above a whisper, barely a voice at all.

Glinda doesn't want to leave her, not like this. But Elphaba keeps staring, unblinking, at her and Glinda relents, nodding as she backs from the small room. Elphaba closes the door. Glinda wonders how the green woman will ever be able to see in the darkness but she believes Elphaba doesn't care. She's pleased when she hears water running; she had hoped the plumping of the building was still in working order.

And then she waits.

She feels a chill in the small room drifting in through the broken windows. She gathers their bedroll from the floor and lies it overtop the grungy mattress on the small bed. It's not much, but she hopes it's enough to keep Elphaba warm. She knows once the woman emerges from the bath she'll need sleep. Glinda remembers what it was like when she first killed a man. Not a Verdigris, but a breathing, fellow human. Elphaba was there. Glinda did not once hesitate when she heard the girl's frightened voice and taken in the man's threatening position.

No man deserved to live if that's how he went about treating helpless women.

She didn't blink as she threw her dagger straight into his head. She felt proud even as his body fell to the ground.

But Elphaba's kill is different.

Because _Elphaba_ is different.

Elphaba has a good soul. One not tainted with past indiscretion and indifference.

So when the shaking girl emerges from the wash room, hair dripping wet, body wrapped in nothing but their blanket and eyes full of unshed tears, Glinda is quick to grab her cloak from the floor and wrap Elphaba tightly in its warmth. She guides her, holding her close, as she gently sits Elphaba upon the bed. By now the tears are streaming freely down green cheeks.

"It's all right," Glinda whispers, kneeling between Elphaba's legs. She reaches up and brushes the tears away as she leans the small distance separating them to press a soft kiss to quivering lips. She wants to tell her the first time is always like this. That everyone feels this way. But Glinda doubts that will help, and she doesn't want to lie to Elphaba. Not anymore.

Elphaba breathes in deeply, silent sobs wracking her body. Glinda gathers her into her arms, hugging her tightly, trying to pour as much assurance into her embrace as she physically can. She's still here; she's not leaving her… not ever.

"It's going to be all right," Elphaba hears Glinda whisper softly into her ear. She can feel Glinda breathing, slow and strong against her. But Elphaba doesn't believe her words. They cannot be true. Nothing could possibly be all right now that she's a murder.

Now that she's taken a life and blackened her soul for good.

No amount of soap or water could wash the stain marring her skin. The blood may be long since gone but she feels it still, feels the phantom of it seeping inside her heart, reminding her of what she's done.

She shakes her head, burying her face against Glinda's neck. "It's n-not okay,"

"It is," Glinda tells her, voice solemn. "If you hadn't _protected_ yourself as you did he would have _killed you_ instead."

Again Elphaba shakes her head, hands gripping the back of Glinda's shirt, desperately holding onto the one thing keeping her from falling apart. "He wouldn't…" she whimpers. "He needs me for his w-work."

"His work which involves hurting you further!" Glinda hisses, pulling away from Elphaba just enough to look into her eyes. She needs Elphaba to see how serious she is. Just how much she means to her. She needs her to see that what Elphaba's done hasn't changed her feelings for the woman. "Don't you see Elphie? He would have never let you go. Not until you lie dead on his table," she says quietly, sullen. Elphaba stares back through hurt eyes, still unbelieving. Glinda cannot believe how deluded Elphaba has suddenly become. How could she think otherwise? If Glinda had walked in any sooner she would have gladly ended Frexspar's life herself. She's sorry she couldn't be the one to do it instead. But she is proud of Elphaba. So proud that the girl she loves stood up for herself. Proud that she's ended all this torment once and for all.

_She'll come to see_, Glinda thinks. _She'll come to realize what she did is right_.

For now she'll hold her and tell her nothing has changed.

As Elphaba rests her cheek back along Glinda's shoulder she says, barely above a whisper, "I'm still a murderer."

"You're not a murderer," Glinda sighs, letting her hands run soothingly through Elphaba's wet hair.

"_I am_!" Elphaba snarls, trying to push Galinda away. But the blonde remains in place, a solid force against Elphaba's hurt. As Elphaba's flash of anger subsides she's left feeling weak once more. "I killed my own father," she barely manages to say through the sob catching in her throat. She feels Glinda press a solid, grounding kiss to her temple. The simple touch sends a wave of overwhelming emotions through Elphaba. Want, anger, comfort, guilt, need, love…

Glinda rises to her knees and brings Elphaba closer, pressing the full length of her torso flush against the taller woman's. "Shhh," she whispers. "Don't think anymore."

Elphaba wishes she could stop thinking. She wishes it were as simple as that. When Glinda touches her, small hands making their way back through her hair once more, Elphaba knows just how she can turn her thoughts off. A nervous prickle settles deep in her stomach, her voice suddenly lost as she turns her head into Glinda's neck and lays a hesitant kiss to the skin just below Glinda's ear.

Glinda squirms, a shiver rolling down her spine at Elphaba's lingering touch. She feels Elphaba's hands slide down her back, pulling her hips closer between her legs. The move is bold, and takes Glinda entirely by surprise. This isn't the course she imagined the night taking. But she can't ignore the way her heart pounds against her chest and the ache of want that settles in her gut. She wants this, has been wanting this with Elphaba for so long…

But not yet.

Not like this.

She leans back, stilling Elphaba's lips along her neck as she cups the woman's green cheeks, gently forcing Elphaba's eyes to look square into her own. Glinda can see the pain staining the brown pools. She can also see Elphaba's longing, her desire for this to continue. And most importantly, most stilling and upsetting, she sees her need to forget, if just for one night, what she's done. Elphaba silently pleads with Glinda for this moment, eyes locked as steadily as she can manage with the blue ones so devoted ahead of her.

Glinda doesn't want Elphaba to sleep with her just to forget. She isn't a distraction. Elphaba means so much more to her than anyone she's ever been with. She hopes Elphaba feels the same and for that reason she won't be Elphaba's escape. Not when she knows how empty the feeling is once it's over.

She can't bear to see that emptiness in the eyes of the woman she loves.

Glinda shakes her head slowly, putting the smallest amount of distance between their bodies. She instantly misses the heat of Elphaba's skin but wills herself to stay resolute. Elphaba will regret this come morning if they continue. Glinda won't allow that look to cross Elphaba's face. It would break her. Completely break what's left of the heart she's just now managed to piece back together.

"Please," Elphaba whispers, fingers gripping into Glinda's sides. She leans forward, resting her forehead gently on the blonde's. "_Please_."

"I'm not a distraction." Glinda tells her, eyes closed to prevent the tears which threaten to spill down her cheeks at Elphaba's persistence.

"You're not," Elphaba says softly, kissing her for a brief moment. Glinda stops herself from deepening the kiss, eyes still closed tightly. "You're so much more."

Glinda can barely hide the fear in her voice as she says, "you just want to forget. I can't… I can't be that for you…. n-not again."

"_I love you_," Elphaba breathes, finally saying the words Glinda has been waiting so patiently to hear. She presses need-filled kisses to Glinda's face as she repeats over and over, "I love you, I love you."

Glinda crumbles, her own desires surrendering as she cries freely and captures Elphaba's lips between her own, kissing her soundly. Elphaba is quick to deepen the kiss, sucking Glinda's bottom lip between her own as she pulls the blonde into her lap. Glinda settles, knees planted firmly on the bed beside Elphaba's hips, straddling the green woman's lap. Her hands still hold Elphaba's face as she kisses her hungrily. They've never been this frenzied before. They are both filled with the unrelenting need to be closer to the other.

Glinda has wanted this for so long she's afraid now that they've started she'll be unwilling to stop. Elphaba tastes of freedom. Of goodness, want, and everything she's ever desired in a partner. She can taste the tears on Elphaba's lips, and she so wants to kiss them all away. To make all Elphaba's pain disappear, if even for just one night. She loves her. Loves her so much it blinds her sometimes to the world around them. It scares Glinda how hard she's fallen for the girl below her. It's a thrilling yet suffocating feeling that has gripped her heart and refuses to let go.

As Glinda lets out a moan, hips rolling against the woman below her, Elphaba knows she wants this to happen. She wants to forget so badly what's transpired. She wants Glinda's scent upon her skin, wants to only be surrounded by the blonde. She wants this more than anything she's ever wanted in her life. She wants to remember every breath Glinda takes; every touch she places on warm skin… every word she utters in pleasure. She wants it all burned to her memory forever; wants it to make a bigger mark upon her heart, one sure to mask the pain still so freshly burned along the muscle.

She could have just as easily been the one lying dead tonight.

Who knows what they are to face tomorrow? For one night they have each other.

For one night she's alive.

She has Glinda.

She has love most of all.

Because as Glinda kisses her, the blonde's lips molding with hers so fervently, Elphaba knows Glinda _loves_ her. She can feel it in the way Glinda's hands hold her face, touch so gentle yet grounding. She feels it in the way Glinda lets out tiny gasps every time Elphaba's hands knead along her hips just right, fingers brushing just under her blouse. She feels it even more in the heart that she can feel beating just as quickly as her own.

Elphaba lets out a small whimper as Glinda detaches from her lips to sit up and slips her blouse up over her head, bra flung aside not a second later. The move surprises Elphaba. She did not imagine for things to progress so quickly. Her eyes are level with Glinda's now exposed chest. The blonde's breasts heave with her shallow breaths. Elphaba licks her lips, uneasy all of the sudden. She's seen Glinda nude before, and the same blush that erupted over her face then tints her cheeks darker green now.

Glinda finds it adorable that Elphaba is so shy all of the sudden. Especially after just kissing and rubbing against her as she was. Deciding Elphaba has been staring for quite long enough without adding green fingers to the mix, Glinda reaches down to her hips, plucking Elphaba's hands from where they seemed almost glued to her skin. She rests them just below her ribs, stomach muscles tightening at the warmth of Elphaba's palms.

Glinda leans over, pressing a wet kiss to Elphaba's forehead. Elphaba is shaken from her daze at the contact, eyes meeting Glinda's smiling ones. "It's all right, Elphie," Glinda tells her softly, moving the green hands further up her body. She watches as Elphaba swallows thickly and shifts, almost uncomfortably below her.

Elphaba feels paralyzed now that what's truly happening has sunk into her brain. She's about to have sex with Glinda. Sex! Elphaba's never done this with anyone, let alone thought about doing this with anyone, let alone ever imagined she'd be sitting here now _about_ to do this with someone. And not just any someone either. But Glinda. Someone she loves with all her being. Her heart could not be pounding more if she were outside in a forest escaping from a horde of Undead. In fact, even that sounds less frightening than the prospect of sex with Glinda where Elphaba is sure she'll disappoint.

Glinda can see Elphaba's mind churning, the woman's eyes growing panicked. She'd hoped Elphaba would be all right, but it's clear now she's not ready. Glinda is about to lean down to retrieve her shirt but is stunned when she feels Elphaba's hand slide across her cheek, forcing her eyes back on the brown ones before her.

"I'm sorry," Elphaba tells her, as she tucks some of the blonde's hair behind her ear. "I'm just… _you know_, and you're so beautiful. Oz, Glinda, look at you and I-"

"Elphie," Glinda smiles, stopping the girl before she rambles herself into a stupor. Elphaba gazes back up at Glinda through scared eyes. "I love you, okay? There's nothing you could ever do that would change that. _Nothing_." Glinda truly hopes Elphaba understands what she's just said. No amount of deaths, or inexperience, or anything will ever change her mind. She loves Elphaba. Period. It is as simple as that.

Elphaba opens her mouth to say something but Glinda silences her with a heated kiss. When she pulls back Glinda is thrilled to see the beginnings of a smile pulling at the corners of Elphaba's mouth.

"Do you want to continue?" Glinda asks her quietly. She can still feel the heat of Elphaba's body pouring against her core. But if Elphaba wants to stop, Glinda is more then willing to curl against her side and hold her through the night instead.

So when Elphaba gives the slightest of nods, Glinda is both delighted and disappointed. She can still see the fresh pain of earlier in Elphaba's eyes, though it is now subdued by insecurity and yearning. Elphaba still wants her, despite her worries. She still wants to be _with_ her. With the girl who once tried to kill her… who treated her with such disdain for so long. Glinda leans down hoping to erase that girl from Elphaba's mind.

And to show her just how changed she truly is.


	21. Let's Not Pretend

**Chapter 21 **

_Let's Not Pretend_

A bright stream of sunlight finds its way through a rip in the curtain beside the bed. The fabric wavers in the slight breeze sending light flickering across Elphaba's face. When the warm glow passes ever so slowly across her cheeks she begins to stir. She nestles closer to the body beside hers, inhaling deeply. The sweet scent of Glinda's hair fills her senses. It's faded a bit from its last wash two nights prior but still present; still alluring. There is another, sharper smell clinging to Glinda's skin that Elphaba vividly recognizes. It makes her body flush with heat as it invades her senses. She nuzzles her nose against the back of Glinda's neck, eliciting a soft whimper from the sleeping girl at the touch. Elphaba doesn't realize how close she's moved to Glinda until she feels her breasts pressing against the bare skin of the blonde's back.

Elphaba has to bite her bottom lip to keep the strangled moan from escaping her mouth at this intimate contact. She lets out a shaky breath, pressing her hand flat against the plane of Glinda's stomach. The blonde's skin is warm and smooth beneath her fingers. She's instantly reminded of their night together. The feel of the skin beneath her fingers brushing against her own. Intoxicating. She wishes she could make Glinda feel the wondrous sensations she was shown last night. The blonde was so gentle, so attentive, never pressing Elphaba to go further than she was comfortable.

_It was… everything_, she thinks with a smile yet she is still upset with her lack of forthcoming expressions. She's read hundreds if not thousands of books and that is the word she has chosen to define her night with Glinda? _Everything? Really? That's all you can manage to say?_

But as she lies, one arm draped comfortably around Glinda with the other pinned somewhere beneath the blonde's head, she realizes everything is perhaps the perfect choice. Because being with Glinda is like flying, just as it's like drowning. It's soft lips against heated skin and a scrape of nails digging against a trembling spine. It's fluttering touches and inexorable pressure. It's…

It is, in essence, _everything._

As she came down from somewhere between infinity and the bedroll beneath her back, Glinda snuggled herself thoroughly against her side. She remembers the blonde stroking her. Where? She can't quite recall. Elphaba was hyper aware of every point of contact between Glinda's body and her own. The fingers that could have been stroking a thigh felt like they just as easily could have been brushing over her cheeks. It wasn't much longer until she could feel the beginnings of exhaustion creep under her skin. She vaguely recalls Glinda wishing her fresh dreams before she succumbed to sleep.

The best sleep she's ever had, she thinks now.

Elphaba's entire body tenses as she hears a low hum from Glinda followed closely by a light utter of, "Elphie…?"

Her mind is made up in this moment. Elphaba knows that, all the things that Glinda showed her last night – she needs to try them now. Memories flood through her conscious. Flashes of creamy skin and bodies arching from the bed fade to pages and renderings inked inside books. Passages of text. Lines from Human Anatomy flicker to dark blue eyes. Sexuality to heated kisses to reproduction, all of it muddling her thoughts so much Elphaba barely notices Glinda trying to turn around in her arms.

The memories disappear as quickly as they came when Elphaba feels Glinda shifting in her embrace. Elphaba can't let Glinda turn; she can't let Glinda see her. Not in the light. Not when Glinda will see the scars marring her skin, _all her skin_, and surely be repulsed and angered by the sight. She won't let that happen. She can't bear to see that hurt crossing the blonde's eyes again.

"Stay," Elphaba whispers, surprised to find her voice heavy with arousal. Before Glinda can even think to protest Elphaba slides her hand between Glinda's legs, rendering the blonde absolutely speechless and immobile. Elphaba is slow in her exploration, finding Glinda unexpectedly wet and _very_ responsive. She is trying to concentrate on what she's doing but when Glinda rolls her hips back against her, demanding more contact, Elphaba fumbles under the pressure of the heat seeming to overtake her body; much like the heat that has captured her wandering fingers.

She needs to be closer to Glinda, she thinks, _much closer_. A green leg moves over the top of Glinda's thigh, locking their bodies tightly together. Glinda lets her left foot slip over a green calf, allowing her legs to spread further, giving Elphaba more access to the release she desperately needs. By now Glinda's breathing is nothing more then quick pants as her hips work a steady pace against Elphaba's hand. Just when Glinda thinks she's close to coming undone, a few of Elphaba's fingers finally fill her.

The loud grunt Glinda makes as she pushes herself harder against Elphaba's motions makes Elphaba feel as though she's right back in that infinite space she was last night as she writhed below the blonde. She's terrified of doing this wrong, of not pleasing Glinda in the same manner that Glinda pleased here mere hours before. But Glinda's hand moves up over their bodies, tangling in Elphaba's hair so thickly that Elphaba forgets she's terrified.

Terrified isn't what she feels as the walls of Glinda's sex throb against her fingers.

Terrified isn't what she feels as her own body shudders in the wake of Glinda's release.

She feels dizzy, almost drunk from the sensations now buzzing in her body as she breathes hard against the back of Glinda's neck, pressing sloppy kisses to any skin she finds.

Elphaba doesn't realize her hand is still buried deep within Glinda until the blonde untangles her fingers from Elphaba's hair, letting them glide past her ear and along her jaw before she gently pulls a green hand out from between her still quivering legs. Elphaba's eyes close, her breath catching as Glinda laces their fingers and presses their joined hands between her full breasts. Directly over her heart. The muscle is beating fast, strong against Elphaba's palm. She can hear Glinda whispering to her softly, "for you."

Elphaba feels herself overcome with emotion for the woman in her arms. She ducks her head between Glinda's shoulder blades to hide the tears quickly flooding her vision. No one has ever made her feel so desired, so complete so… _everything_.

Glinda thinks nothing could ever be more perfect then this moment until she feels something wet against her back and hears the small sniffle escape the woman she adores beyond all else. She tries to roll over but Elphaba's hand along her spine stops her once more.

"Please, _Elphie_," Glinda begs, needing to hold the woman close.

"W-wait," Elphaba stutters. She sounds almost nervous as she pulls away from Glinda.

Glinda's brow furrows with worry and she feels the blanket tangled between them being slid from under her legs. She rolls over quickly just as Elphaba has pulled the blanket up to her chest, concealing her from sight. The green knuckles are pulled taut, skin glaring white under her strong hold.

Glinda frowns and reaches toward Elphaba's hands, pressing down gently once she does. "It's all right Elphie, it's just me."

But Elphaba shakes her head even as Glinda scoots closer. "N-not yet… I… last night it was so dark and there was no way…"

Glinda leans over, kissing her soundly, finding solace in the way Elphaba relaxes against her mouth. She pulls away but just enough to tell her softly, "You're so beautiful, Elphaba."

"I'm not beautiful like you," Elphaba confesses but Glinda doesn't want to hear any of it.

"No, you're not," Glinda tells her with a smile. "There's hundreds of girls just like me Elphie, but no one, there is _no one,_ who could even come close to being as incredible as you."

Elphaba feels her cheeks grow warm at Glinda's words, her heart suddenly thudding faster. A shaky grin pulls at her lips. She thinks Glinda has never looked more beautiful as she smiles so radiantly back at her, lips still swollen from the night past, cheeks flushed from the sex of mere minutes before. Elphaba can't help herself as she leans over, capturing those lips between her own. "I love you, my sweet," she says resting their foreheads together.

Glinda swears her heart is soaring when she hears those words pass from Elphaba's lips. It takes all she has in her not to pin Elphaba to the bed and show her again just how much she reciprocates the feeling. She chuckles as she imagines the look on Elphaba's face if she did.

Elphaba pulls slightly back, an eyebrow rising down at Glinda. "What?"

"Nothing," Glinda leans forward, kissing the corner of Elphaba's mouth, happy when the smile returns to green lips. "I just wanted to let you know this was by far the best way I've ever been woken up."

"You're welcome?" Elphaba replies back, a bit confused but smiling nonetheless.

Glinda allows a smirk to cross her face. "I'd very much like to return the _favor_."

Elphaba's eyes grow wide as she clutches the blanket closer to her chest. The blush is so evident on her cheeks Glinda is sure it can be seen from Quox. When Elphaba ducks her head down, eyes avoiding Glinda's own, Glinda grows worried.

She gently cups the palm of her hand against Elphaba's jaw, raising the girl's head so they may look at each other once more. "It's all right, Elphie. I was simply kidding. It's okay."

Elphaba tries to mask the apprehension she feels but Glinda's touch is so tender, her eyes so full of compassion that Elphaba has no choice but to let the truth slip from between her lips. "I'm scared… of what happens now."

Glinda rubs her thumb along the high peak of Elphaba's cheekbone. "Nothing if you don't want it to."

"No," Elphaba shakes her head. "I'm not talking about sex."

Glinda blushes, but encourages Elphaba to continue.

"I murdered my father, Glinda."

Glinda feels her heart skip a beat at the admission. Elphaba is obviously still concerned about what she's done and Glinda understands why. If it wasn't for the brutality she endured during her training she's sure she would not have gotten over her first kill of another human quite so easily. "How are you?" Glinda asks despite her knowledge Elphaba is far from being anything but all right.

Neither girl is making eye contact, too afraid the other will see the truth behind their words.

"I'm okay," Elphaba says. _For now, anyway._

"It'll get better," Glinda replies. _But you'll still feel it_.

"So you say."

"You trust me?"

Elphaba looks back up to Glinda, eyes steely. "Of course."

"I want you to be better than okay," Glinda confesses.

Elphaba sighs rolling to her back as she says, "I'll never be okay, not after what I've done."

"In time you will come to understand, you did _nothing_ wrong," Glinda says quietly yet with conviction. She bridges the gap between their bodies; palm covering Elphaba's cheek fully, turning the green woman's face back toward her. Elphaba's eyes dart vulnerably between Glinda's own. What she's searching for in her gaze Glinda does not know. There is something she does know and doesn't hesitate when she tells Elphaba, "It doesn't change how I feel about you, not in the least. I _love_ you, Elphaba. Always will."

Elphaba doesn't realize how much she needed to hear Glinda say those words until they wash over her. Glinda won't forsake her because of what she's done. She feels safe in Glinda's arms, accepted and loved. "Thank you," Elphaba says causing Glinda to quirk a brow in confusion. She's being thanked for telling Elphaba that she loves her?

"For what?" Glinda asks with a chuckle.

Elphaba blushes as she turns her body back toward the blonde. "For… _everything_. For understanding, for staying, for last night…"

Glinda lets out a surprisingly girlish giggle at Elphaba's admission. "You never have to thank me for something I _more_ than wanted myself."

Elphaba, if possible, blushes more as she thinks about the morning's activities. She looks up at Glinda, wanting to tell her how much she enjoyed making her feel the same but the sun catches Glinda's blue eyes so brilliantly that Elphaba is at a loss for words. She wants to tell Glinda how beautiful she is especially in this moment with her hair a mess, cheeks still red from their earlier tryst and eyes shinning so adoringly back into hers.

But the sun is a reminder that the night is gone. And in the quiet the new day has brought she can hear the far off cries of the Undead trapped behind the Palace. Elphaba's never read about so many being held captive, let alone bared witness to such numbers. It's a stilling reminder of what Morrible is capable of… and what more why they must see to it that she's is stopped.

Gathering the blanket around her Elphaba sits up in the bed, trying not to look down at Glinda as she remains lying beside her, nude as ever with her head propped up on her hand. Training her eyes on the wall ahead of her, Elphaba says, "we need to find Morrible."

Glinda's brow knots, confused by Elphaba's sudden cold tone. If she didn't know any better she'd think the green woman was acting strangely like... well, herself when they first met. So Glinda follows Elphaba out of bed and watches, both curious and concerned as Elphaba begins pacing in front of the door still wrapped in the blanket.

Elphaba can't figure out what Morrible wants.

Why keep all those Undead locked up?

What is she planning?

And what more, how do they figure into it all?

Glinda gives a sigh as she realizes Elphaba is exerting herself unnecessarily. She manages to pull the green woman to the small table along the far wall and sit her down in the broken chair.

"Let me make you some tea," Glinda whispers, not wanting to disturb the thoughts clearly storming behind the unfocused brown eyes. She keeps her gaze on Elphaba as she picks up one of their blouses from the floor and slips it over her shoulders. She vaguely realizes its Elphaba's, the larger size feeling a tad foreign as it hangs loosely from her body, the bottom just barely brushing the tops of her thighs. But what worries her more is the bloodstain which has faded from the rain, but is still visible on the fabric. As she scrounges up some tea from their pack along with a tin cup she makes note to try and wash the rest of the blood out.

Elphaba is as Glinda assumed, lost in her thoughts. She still can't seem to grasp what Morrible is planning and where she and Glinda fit into all of this. Does Morrible really plan to involve them? She must, Elphaba thinks, if the wanted posters still plastered about the city are any indication. The only solace she found upon seeing them was Glinda's changed status to being wanted alive. Yet, why the change of heart? Did Morrible truly care for Glinda's well-being?

She can only think of one answer to all of her questions.

Morrible wants her book back.

And more questions manifest in the shadow of that truth.

For what purpose? What spell? Is she even aware of the spell? She can't even read it! _Is that why she wants me?_

Elphaba lets out a groan as she slumps over the table and lets her forehead hit the surface with a soft thud.

Glinda walks up behind her, brushing long sections of the dark hair from Elphaba's face and over a slumped shoulder. She takes a seat atop the table. "Hi," she tells her softly, nudging the cup of tepid tea in front of Elphaba's nose. "I apologize if it's horrid, there's no stove so I filled it with some water from the washroom."

Elphaba turns her head, staring up at Glinda who smiles warmly down at her. The shirt she's wearing hangs loosely from over one shoulder, its collar wrinkled and wet. A faint discoloration stains the front along the chest, damp just like the collar. Elphaba gulps upon realizing it's her own blouse Glinda has slipped on. It's as if the blonde is carrying the burden of her murder upon her shoulders. She feels ashamed at thinking the blouse looks good on her, especially undone save for the sole button clasped near her stomach. "You're wearing my blouse," she says quietly, blushing fiercely.

Glinda's once warm and gentle smile curls mischievously, her voice growing far huskier as she says, "I do believe I am. Would you like it back now?"

Elphaba shoots upright in her chair, shaking her head as Glinda moves to undo the button holding the blouse together. Glinda continues smirking at Elphaba even as the green woman hastily picks the cup of tea from the table and takes a giant swig, only to spit the vile tasting drink right back out again.

"Is it really that bad?" Glinda asks with a chuckle as Elphaba holds the cup out to her, smacking her lips and shaking her head as if it will rid her mouth of the horrid taste. Glinda stands and takes a cautious sip, expression growing wide as she sputters and coughs the small amount of tea back into the cup. "Yes," she says pushing the awful drink far across the tabletop. "Yes, it's that bad. Absolutely disgusting. I'm sorry I ever made it."

"Thank you," Elphaba tells her, voice suddenly thick with emotion. Glinda turns to her, surprised by the deeply heartfelt tone. "For being there, here now, making me ghastly tea. _Everything_. Last night you could have… you could have left but you _stayed_ and I just-"

"I'd _never _leave you," Glinda tells her before Elphaba can utter a word more. She sits back down on the tabletop, closer to Elphaba.

"I know," Elphaba replies, touching her fingers to Glinda's bare thigh. She feels the muscle beneath her fingers twitch and when she looks up at the blonde she catches the pink just beginning to settle along her cheeks. "I love you."

Glinda feels it then, that same frightening sensation in her heart she always gets when Elphaba says those three words. It's so new, so dizzying and so terrifying all at once. It's as though her very heart has expanded beyond its means and threatens to push straight out of her chest. It's a raw ache, a wonderful pain. It makes her want to smile, cry, fly even! She fingers the edge of her blouse where it brushes along her breast, hand sliding to cover the skin just above her heart, which is beating a strong rhythm for the woman in front of her. Glinda inhales deeply, her voice nothing but a rasp as she says, "it scares me sometimes, how much I love you."

Elphaba leans forward, pressing a kiss to Glinda's arm, her wrist and then over her exposed breast. "Me too," she whispers, nuzzling her nose along the blonde's warm chest, letting out a long breath as Glinda's scoots nearer still and holds her close. She can feel Glinda's fingers running through her hair, slow and smooth. She hums at the feeling, at the warmth pooling deep in her stomach at the blonde's tender touch.

A crackle of static sounds outside the window, both turning at the sound of the speakers posted throughout the city flickering to life. An electric spike sizzles outside, a spark ignited beside the speaker along the nearby post. Glinda's hands still in Elphaba's hair and Elphaba can feel the heart beneath the blonde's chest beating faster.

Morrible's voice echoes throughout the City.

"Citizens, as you are well aware provisions have been made for your continued safety. Your vigilance in our efforts is _tantamount _to our success. I wish not to disturb your morning further and thus implore you to join me as I give a speech outside the Palace at noon with information about our continuing efforts here in the City and how you too, can help the cause. As I promised, Oz will soon be rid of this scourge!"

Morrible's voice disappears with a fizzle and a burst of static. The hum of power that surged through the wires looped haphazardly outside the widow fades. As the electric noise subsides, the voices of the citizens below bellow up. There is a smattering of applause from the rundown apartment complex nearby; cheers echo from a few streets over.

A few gunshots are fired in celebration.

The people adore their new leader.

They trust in her.

"Noon," Elphaba says.

And Glinda nods.

* * *

><p>They stand amongst the citizens outside the palace walls, hands clasped, shrouded in the shadow of a banner tied between two streetlamps. If anyone were to look closer at the women they'd recognize their faces from the banner swaying in the wind above their heads. The women are relieved that the crowd is so riveted to the empty podium far ahead.<p>

Their own eyes are for too busy darting from the Ozians surrounding them and back up to the emerald clock tower.

Five more rounds of the thinnest steel hand and noon will be upon the square.

Glinda tugs down further on the large swooping hat already shoved as far down as it will go on her head. She discovered it earlier inside an old coatroom at the Inn, hoping Elphaba would prefer the cover to her shawl. But Elphaba was adamant she keep it for herself. She's grown accustomed to the shawl and the protection it provides. Comfortable even, beneath it. Elphaba did accept a discarded travel cloak also salvaged from Glinda's explorations. The heavy wool hood helped the keep the shawl in place. Though had the negative effect of making her stand out a bit in the warm weather.

No one seemed to care though. Not even the Gale Force sprinkled throughout the growing crowd.

When Morrible arrives it is to raucous applause and deafening cheers.

Elphaba grips Glinda's hand tighter.

"My fellow Ozians!" Morrible bellows into the large amplifying phone supported atop the podium. She raises her arms, wide grin spread across her face as the crowd hushes. She continues, confident as ever, "I have asked you here today to share with you our progress! As you are well aware my forces are continuing in their endless pursuit of the Verdigris pair. I have no doubt they will try and enter the city which is why I must stress to you the importance of their capture! Keep watch on the skies as you do the streets. Report any sightings immediately to the nearest officer. Rest assured I will take care of the rest. As for my promise to rid the land of the scourge, believe in my word. I will see to it they terrorize Oz no more! The key to this success lies within the hands of the Wicked Verdigris girl and her accomplice. They hold our freedom hostage! I will not rest until I reclaim what is rightfully ours!"

As the crowd explodes once more into boisterous approval, Glinda tugs on Elphaba's hand. The two women exchange a look, a brief glance. Elphaba nods at the silent question behind the blonde's eyes. She's more than happy for them to leave.

As Morrible carries on, the crowd riveted by her words, the women slip away.

They make it back to their dingy room with ease, the streets practically empty and devoid of officers. Everyone is obviously still celebrating.

_Though what are they celebrating, exactly?_ Elphaba wonders as she discards her shawl upon their bedroll. What has Morrible uncovered? What freedom does she speak of?

And as her eyes take in the sight of the Grimmerie peeking out from her research bag she knows the freedom Morrible seeks. Yet, "what use is it to her if she can't even read it?" Elphaba exclaims.

Glinda tosses her hat aside, eyes passing over the book before returning once more to meet Elphaba's stormy gaze. "Maybe she knows someone who can?"

Elphaba's eyes turn somber as she replies, "She does. Me."

"Aside from you," Glinda says quietly, though not entirely believing that is possible. It's obvious to her that if Morrible can't hope to read from the book than surely no one else can.

"You said it yourself Glinda," Elphaba says with a heavy sigh. "I have the power within me to be great. Power Morrible obviously wants," she explains, lamenting the thoughts even as they pass her lips. She lets out a groan as she allows her body to grow slack and collapse back onto the creaky bed. The old, stiff mattress barely gives under her weight, though it squeaks loudly in protest. There are a few moldy spots on the ceiling, a muddy green that she can't help but focus upon, and unconsciously compare with her own unfortunate coloring.

Oh, how easy it would be to blend into the walls and disappear forever.

But then what of the people?

What of those now blindly following Morrible instead of the Wizard?

The mattress dips beside her, Glinda's hand soon coming to rest along her arm. She meets the blonde's eyes, surprised by the fiery resolve she finds staring so fiercely back down at her. "You stay here while I go slit her throat," Glinda tells her in a voice just as impassioned as her expression.

Elphaba shoots up from the bed, grabbing Glinda before she can even think to move away. She wants to tell her there must be another way. One that doesn't make her stomach stir with memories of the previous night; with flashes of metal and blood staining her skin. There has to be a way that doesn't end with more death. But instead she says, "I'm not letting you go alone."

* * *

><p>Late that night the two women climb up to the roof of the abandoned Inn. The Gale Forcers below barely glance skyward. They are too busy brushing aside the Philosophy Club inhabitants to notice as the women take off into the sky and straight over the city's containment wall. Glinda clings tight to Elphaba as the green woman pulls them swiftly up into the cloud layer, steering them toward the palace. They can smell the stench of the Undead trapped in the back gardens before they ever come into sight.<p>

There seem to be more now, if possible. The horde is packed in so tightly some have begun crawling over each other in attempts to escape their prison. Elphaba guides the broom into a steady hover just above the balcony she knows must belong to Morrible. It is the grandest, after all.

Glinda slips off of the broom first, hardly waiting for Elphaba to lower them to the stone. She lands with a soft thud, her dagger extracted and held tightly in her fist. The large windows are open, the warm night air wafting gently into the dark room beyond. Glinda can feel Elphaba hurry up behind her, the green woman's body heat radiating against her back. With a glance over her shoulder back toward Elphaba and a nod in resigned acceptance from the green woman, Glinda moves silently into Morrible's bedchamber.

Her former superior is sleeping soundly nestled amongst a small lake of exceedingly luxurious pillows. Glinda grimaces at the sight as she deftly moves closer, steps light against the equally plush carpet. Morrible stirs, rolling to her side, facing Glinda who halts with a shudder and a sharp intake of breath. She can see the woman's false lashes starting to peel from her eyelids. Morrible has obviously neglected to remove the layers of makeup still painted upon her face. A frown pulls at the large woman's lips, eyes squinting ever so slightly before she relaxes back against the bed, still once more.

Glinda lets out a slow breath, taking another cautious step forward.

Elphaba watches from just beyond the window, clutching the broom tightly to her chest. The worn wood quivers in her grip, almost as if manifesting the tremors threatening to roll through her body. _This was a dreadfully preposterous plan_, she thinks now in retrospect. It's too easy. Why would Morrible just leave her window ajar? Especially after giving a speech earlier about vigilance? Especially knowing they could easily attain access to her room?

It reeks of a trap, of a setup sure to end poorly.

Deadly even.

Elphaba takes a step into the room, hoping to gain Glinda's attention, but the blonde has made it to the bed and in the blink of an eye her dagger is pressed soundly against Morrible's throat.

The woman wakes with a jolt, eyes snapping wide yet quickly dissolving into a look of presumption as she focuses up at her assailant with a twinge of a smirk pulling at her lips. _She knew_, Glinda realizes, heart racing as Morrible continues staring steadily, proudly even, up at her. _She was waiting for this…_

"What is it you want, Miss Galinda?" Morrible asks lightly and Glinda can feel the woman's voice reverberating through her dagger and straight into her palm. "Why is it you seem intent upon ending my life when I spared yours so willingly?"

"_Shut up_," Glinda hisses through clenched teeth as she digs the blade deeper into Morrible thick neck. "You've done _nothing _for me."

"If you insist on feeling so," Morrible replies calmly. "And since you seem so intent on ending my life at least give me the privilege of knowing why. What, exactly, haven't I done for you?"

"Glinda," Elphaba calls softly but the blonde doesn't or refuses to hear her.

"You want to hurt her," Glinda snarls and Morrible need not ask to know whom she is referring to. She can plainly see the green woman standing a few paces from her window, caught between grabbing Glinda and taking off into the night or stepping up beside her in solidarity. Morrible feels the blade nick her skin as Glinda forces her attention back and growls out, "_I won't let you._"

"I don't wish her harm Galinda," Morrible says, voice strained with the pressure of Glinda's relentless blade. "I have never given you reason to doubt me. Believe me when I tell you I truly only wish to see this madness end."

"_How_?" Glinda exclaims lowly. "There is no cure!"

"I don't plan to cure them," Morrible tells her evenly. "I plan to _end_ them."

"There's no way," Glinda says with a shake of her head, never once relenting in her grip on the dagger. "Not all of them."

"There must be. It's what I need the Grimmerie for; it's what I need _her_ for," Morrible says, eyes meeting Elphaba's from across the room. Glinda lets out a rather incensed groan and forces Morrible's face back toward her own. But Morrible smiles up at the blonde as she asks, "Do you even realize why she's so powerful? Why she's so… unique?"

Elphaba steps forward at the answer lingering in Morrible's question.

Morrible's smile grows as she notices the girl moving closer form the corner of her eyes.

"In my drawer there," Morrible instructs, giving a slight nod toward the nightstand beside the bed. Glinda squints in suspicion but Morrible merely rolls her eyes and purses her lips at the blonde's mistrust. "Just open it, Galinda."

Before Glinda can even move Elphaba slides the drawer open slowly, extracting the single item from within. An identical green bottle, an exact match to her own.

"I know you are already quite aware the Wizard was behind all this," Morrible explains softly. "I can only thank you for bringing light to his treachery and apologize for the means with which said information was delivered. But if it weren't for your time with me and the truth you revealed, I would have lived in ignorance. Ignorance of the fact that the man I vowed to serve is the sole reason for this scourge; the reason that upon my death I too shall become one of them. Before I had him killed I had to learn more," she says, pausing to dislodge a rather painful lump that has formed in her throat, trying hard to swallow against the pressure of Glinda's blade. After a moment, she manages to continue. "I used my truth serum on him. He was an exceedingly boring man for someone so worshiped. The only bit of even remotely scandalous information provided was about a tryst he had with a married woman some twenty-two years ago in Munchkinland… your mother, Melena Thropp."

The bottle drops from Elphaba's hands, cap undone as it lands upon the carpet. The green elixir within spreads and soaks into the floor. Through parted lips Elphaba lets out short erratic breaths. _It can't be_, she thinks. _The Wizard could never have been…_

_He can't be…_

"Lies!" Glinda shouts, dagger sliding up against Morrible's chin. "I should just kill you now to be done with them!"

"Why would I lie? What have I to gain from this?" Morrible snaps, eyes narrowing audaciously into Glinda's. "I don't understand why you are so against what I am proposing to do. Don't you want to see Oz returned to its former glory? To attend Shiz and become the sorceress I know you wish to be?"

Glinda tightens her grip on the hilt to mask the way her hand has begun to tremble. "Not if it means hurting her."

"I can't promise there won't be risks. There is with all magic," Morrible replies, voice once again taking on an uncannily soft tone. It sounds foreign upon Morrible's tongue. It makes Glinda shudder hearing it. It reminds her of her mother; of the times when Edlyn would show her a rare ounce of compassion.

The compassion was always fleeting though.

"Then it isn't worth it," Glinda whispers fiercely.

"W-wait," Elphaba stammers, stepping across the stained rug and coming to a stop beside Glinda. She lays a hand over the blonde's. Glinda's hold upon the weapon loosens at the tender touch. Their eyes meet, Glinda's impossibly wide and questioning, boring into Elphaba's which are full of sympathy and resigned to her new fate.

A fate she now realizes she was born to uphold.

While Glinda argued with Morrible, no matter how briefly it was, Elphaba came to several poignant and life-altering conclusions.

The Wizard is her father.

And even if he claimed it was by accident he was still the one to set this terror upon the land.

But she now knows it was no accident that she was born green. That she holds within herself the power to read from the book.

She feels she was always meant to be the one to wield its power. To be the one to end this all…

No matter what it may cost her.

She just hopes Glinda remembers what they once could not promise the other. What they both could not guarantee.

_I'm sorry, my sweet_, Elphaba murmurs silently to herself.

She looks back to Morrible, the larger woman surprised by the resolution staring back at her through such dark brown eyes.

"I will stay," Elphaba tells Morrible. She ignores the sudden sharp intake of air filling the lungs of the blonde beside her. She squeezes Glinda's hand, still staring at the now stunned Morrible as she says, "but only if you promise, in writing — a decree, what have you — so long as it's binding, that Glinda may go free. Her—" The blonde protests, trying to cry out in opposition but Elphaba pulls her close, her free hand quick to cover the blonde's mouth as she continues, "her name be cleared and no harm shall ever befall her from this reign."

"_NO!_" Glinda exclaims, wrenching free of Elphaba's grasp. But the green woman is quick to pull her back, the dagger dropping to the ground in their scuffle.

"I sense you two needing a moment," Morrible muses, standing to her feet and excusing herself from the room. Glinda breaks free of Elphaba once again and in one swift motion pulls the pistol from her belt, slamming down the hammer. With her finger half depressed against the trigger she points the barrel straight at Morrible's head.

"_I dare you to move_," she growls.

"Stop this," Elphaba tells her, voice low as she tries to force Glinda to lower her weapon. Glinda keeps a hand placed firmly over Elphaba's chest, holding her back as the gun shakes in her unsteady grip. She can't lose Elphaba. Not willingly to this woman. Not so that she can be strapped to yet another table and forced to endure even more horrendous experiments, more pain. And this time with the added horrors of harnessing her magic.

Glinda may not know all it entails but she knows Morrible will stop at nothing to attain Elphaba's power for herself. Glinda's seen what Elphaba's power is capable of when it's left unchecked. She's seen the way it leaves her weak, as if it drains the very life from her body.

Morrible says she wants to end the scourge. Wants everything to return to the way it was. For someone so adamant about forgetting the past Glinda is far too suspicious of Morrible's intentions now. No matter how noble she claims them to be Glinda knows Morrible wants nothing more then use Elphaba for her own selfish gains.

Elphaba won't be lauded for ending the scourge.

No, Morrible will while Elphaba is destroyed.

And that's even if there's a way! Glinda thinks this is madness. How could Elphaba be so willing to stay when she knows, _when she knows without a doubt,_ that there is nothing that will ever stop the Undead?

Nothing that won't also end with the rest of life on Oz also perishing.

Glinda knows Elphaba would rather die than to harm another innocent life.

Staying with Morrible would assure that.

Glinda can't allow that to happen. She vowed not to let this happen!

Elphaba feels Glinda's finger digging into her blouse, the blonde's nails scrapping over her skin. From her angle just over the blonde's shoulder she can see the beginnings of tears forming at the corners of Glinda's eyes. Morrible stands riveted to her spot a few paces ahead, eyes locked calmly with Glinda's piercing blue.

Elphaba slides her fingers gently over the hand pressed against her heart. She knows Glinda will understand the next words she utters, knows where they are formed from. "For you," she whispers so that only Glinda can hear.

Glinda lets out a ragged breath, gun still trained on Morrible as she turns and faces Elphaba. This isn't for her. Elphaba can't be doing this for her! The tears she held back so fiercely now stream in thick ribbons down her cheeks. "I can't let you stay," she mutters weakly. "I can't let you do something so dangerous. You'll _die_ Elphie."

Elphaba's lip quirks at the corner, the beginnings of a sad smile pulling at her mouth. "I know," she replies back just as softly. "I've always known. Don't you see my sweet? _This_ is why I am here. My purpose."

"Your purpose is to _live_, to _be_ despite all this," Glinda tells her vehemently. The unspoken meaning behind her words hit Elphaba hard, her heart clenching painfully in her chest as she realizes she once said those same words to Glinda.

Elphaba casts her eyes to the ground, no longer able to endure seeing the hurt swirling so thickly in Glinda's gaze. Almost mockingly the stain on the carpet glares back at her instead. "My true father created this," she says. She looks back up a Glinda, this time unwavering in her steadfast stare. "I _must _be the one to see it through. If Morrible believes there is a way in the book then it is now my duty to carry it out."

"No, Elphie, it's not, _please_-"

"Trust me," Elphaba implores, closing the space separating her from Glinda. She cups the blonde's face in her palms, brushing away the tears as Glinda chokes on a sob and leans into her touch. "I must stay."

Glinda cares not that Morrible is still in the room, witnessing this exchange. She slides her hand, still pressed over Elphaba's heart, up to brush along the green woman's jaw. "I promised to never leave you. I _can't_ leave you here."

"You're not leaving me," Elphaba whispers against her hair, heart stilling, breaking as she forces the next words past trembling lips, "I'm leaving you."

"_Elphie_," Glinda squeaks, throwing her arms around the taller woman and hugging her desperately. She can hear Morrible's scoff and again could care less. Her gun clatters to the floor harmlessly as she tangles her hands in Elphaba's blouse, so afraid to let her go. Her head shakes in protest against the green woman's chest, a series of no's utter from between her lips.

"Please understand, my sweet," Elphaba whispers against her hair, drawing soothing patterns over Glinda's back. "I _must_ stay. I _must_ see this ended without harm to anyone... to you."

Glinda pulls back, watery gaze locked with Elphaba's own misty eyes. "No, _stay with me_. _Please_."

Elphaba's eyes close, squeezed tight as her jaw clenches and she breathes hard through her nose. "… I can't," comes out as nothing more than a breath. When her eyes open they are dark, darker than Glinda has ever seen them before. "You have to go. Before Morrible changes her mind, please Glinda. It's the only way I can guarantee you're safe. Please go."

Glinda is a mess of tears, eyes stained red, and lips trembling in time with her shaking hands. This isn't it. She's not losing Elphaba; not to the calm, wicked woman smiling so triumphantly at then from across the room. She can't let Elphaba go. Not to her! Not to anyone! She promised to keep her safe. She can't break that; she can't let her go.

She clings frantically to the woman she loves. "We can leave here, together," she whispers breathlessly, hopeful smile crossing her lips. "Go far away, just like you wanted. Come with me?"

Elphaba shakes her head. "It's too late to run."

"It's not. _It's not_, please. Come with me," Glinda pleads tugging Elphaba closer. _This is my fault_, she thinks frantically. If she hasn't been so _insistent_ about stopping Morrible they could have been halfway to Fliaan by now! Safe, _together_. Everything Elphaba wanted…

Glinda hates herself. Hates herself for being the very cause of her own undoing.

Elphaba presses her forehead gently against Glinda's. "You lived without me once."

Glinda cringes, her heart burning against her ribs. "That wasn't living."

"My patience ladies!" Morrible trills from across the room.

Once again the woman is ignored as Elphaba brushes her lips lightly over Glinda's. "I'll always love you," she whispers before pulling away.

Glinda breaks.

"_Elphie_," she cries as she yanks down on the taller woman's neck, pulling her down hard, lips smashing together. Elphaba can taste the tears on Glinda's lips, taste the blonde's desperation as their tongues meet. She hears a guttural sound escape from Glinda's throat, a whimper as she holds back another cry. Glinda kisses Elphaba deeper, not caring that Morrible is watching. Her fingers are tangled in dark hair, tangled so thickly she's sure Elphaba can't pull them apart.

"Hold out, my sweet," she feels breathed across her lips more than spoken. Glinda rakes her teeth over Elphaba's bottom lip, eliciting a moan from the green woman who wraps her tightly in her arms, kissing her back with just as much frenzied passion.

"I love you," Glinda manages to murmur, never once letting her lips leave the now bruised ones still sliding so hungrily against her own. "I love you, I love you…"

"Enough of this!" Morrible exclaims, the women ripped apart several feet with a well-placed spell.

Glinda's chest heaves, panting hard. Her eyes never once leave the pained brown ones staring so longingly back into hers. She watches as Elphaba takes deep, calming breaths, eyes seeming to beg of Glinda to let her go.

"I'll be okay," she watches Elphaba mouth to her, a brave small trace of a smile pulling at her dark lips. "Go."

"Miss Galinda," Morrible calls, motioning toward the door.

"_Glinda_," she replies back, eyes still locked on the brown ones seemingly a world apart from her. Her next words very much directed to their owner, "I'll always be Glinda."

"Yes dear, whatever," Morrible says with a roll of her eyes, muttering about adolescence as she opens the door to her bedchambers. A few of the guards stand at attention outside, obviously having overheard the commotion. Their cheeks are stained with blush as they keep their eyes averted, awaiting instruction. Morrible motions them inside, commanding, "Please escort Miss _Glinda_ from the Palace, see to it she's returned home safely, that her name and all criminal records held against her be expunged. She is a free woman, and shall remain so from this day forward."

Glinda feels two hands gently grab her arms, voices soft against her ear urging her to follow.

Elphaba nods at her, mouth barely forming the words "I love you," as Glinda is dragged from the room. As she passes Morrible she can hear the woman commending Elphaba, praising her for making the right decision. The only solace she takes in this is Morrible's promise of escorting her to the palace's best suite.

Perhaps… perhaps they will end this. Perhaps she will see Elphaba again.

She can hold out.

Thinking so still doesn't stop the overwhelming emptiness that has quickly taken hold of her heart. The last glimpse of Elphaba she catches is of the green woman's shoulders falling as Morrible closes her bedroom door.

Once outside the palace walls, a free woman placed into a carriage, the driver is given instructions to take her home. Glinda has never felt more imprisoned. Nor more alone.

So it is much to Edlyn's surprise when she is roused from sleep at such an uncouthly late hour to several sharp knocks upon her apartment door. And even more so when she opens the doors to find her daughter standing on the doorstep, a slumped mess of curls, dirty clothes…

…Eyes burnt red with seemingly endless tears. …Heartbroken, exhausted and desolate.

"_Momsie_," Glinda whimpers and steps into her mother's outstretched arms.


	22. Holding Out

**Chapter 22 **

_Holding Out_

The sky is bright, not a cloud dotting the endless expanse of blue. The air is cool, winter soon forthcoming. A crisp snap of a breeze gently blows over Elphaba's shoulders; her hair sways in the chilled wind, tickling her heated cheeks. She scrunches her nose at the unwanted sensation. A sneeze soon follows.

"You had best not be coming down with something," she hears Morrible say gruffly just over her shoulder. "The last time set us back _weeks_."

Elphaba clenches her jaw, biting back the retort so ready to leave her tongue. It was Morrible's fault of course, why she had fallen so ill the previous month. The new-found ruler had left her out here atop the platform for _hours_ in the pouring –and not to mention _freezing_– rain, insisting they continue forward with the day's rigorous schedule. To Elphaba the days had begun to blur. It was always the same. Every night for the past half a year has been spent transcribing the Grimmerie, uncovering the spells then handing them over to Morrible. Each morning she has been strapped to the platform, suspended above a section of the horde to try out any enchantment Morrible thinks might terminate them. The spells never work. If anything, they only make the horde unruly, far more than Elphaba's ever seen them.

The fence had to be reinforced with stone, steel guard towers erected in place of the old wooden ones. And yet still the Undead were able to tear them down, their strength growing ever stronger amidst the chaos. Chaos wrought upon them by Morrible.

Conditions that have made them more than just the ignorant bloodthirsty beasts they were when this all began.

These creatures below are cunning. They attempt escape. In a heartbeat they tear apart any soul whom is unlucky enough to fall to their waiting dead hands. They are unrelenting, destructive and in massive numbers a force unlike anything magic can ever hope to subdue.

The surge of resentment that once gripped Elphaba's heart passes as another breeze wafts by. This one carries the scent of dozens of Undead that have been packed into the smaller containment area just ahead. They were herded in earlier, before Elphaba even arrived. And that was at dawn. Her nose scrunches again against the onslaught of the vile, rotting odor pouring from below. Her legs throb; her forehead is dotted with beads of sweat. They've tried at least a dozen enchantments and even with Morrible's amplification device Elphaba feels exhausted, drained of her very life essence.

Her head hangs low, hair falling to curtain her face as she allows her body to grow slack in her bonds. The silver shackles clamped to her wrists grow taut, pulling at her sore and bruised skin. The pain is negligible, especially compared to the onslaught of grief and guilt seeming to consume her every waking minute. It plagues her dreams, her thoughts so thoroughly Elphaba feels perhaps only in death will she be free of their burden.

_Glinda was right_, she laments as her knees meet the floorboards below, arms hung painfully over her head, fingers just dusting over the smooth glass of the crystals used to conduct her magical energies. The materials - which glowed vibrantly when Elphaba's palms pressed against them - dull, the emerald green gems returning to their natural state. Elphaba can feel the last wisp of energy seep out from the tips of her fingers, the green elixir swirling inside the gems stilling as it absorbs the last bit of power.

The Undead below let out furious cries, ravenous.

Elphaba doesn't even care anymore. She thinks she should have just flown away with Glinda. She never should have been so stupidly noble. Look where it's led. Her good deed has backfired, spectacularly so. There is no spell to end this madness. There never shall be. The only solace in her miserable life comes from the knowledge that Glinda is safe from harm. She's heard of the blonde's attempts at rescue, overheard at least a dozen conversations between Morrible's men as they laugh at one of her latest exploits. Elphaba's heart burns as she listens to their encounters from within her cell at night. Glinda is nothing more than nuisance to them, a buzzing fly easily swatted aside.

She wishes Glinda would stop. She resigned herself to this fate… to this empty, painful existence. Frexspar was nothing compared to the monster Morrible has become. There is no reprieve from the woman, no time to sleep. Not when her mission is still unaccomplished, not when the Undead below still stand.

Not when Elphaba's power still thrives and her heart still beats.

"Get up," Morrible snarls, yanking Elphaba back to her feet. The green woman sways for a moment, legs unstable as Morrible thrusts the Grimmerie out, indicating the passage she wishes Elphaba to read. Elphaba can see her notes scrawled along the edge of the enchanted text. They appear misplaced and foreign nestled beside the precise looping script of the book. Her vision blurs as fatigue overwhelms her. She can hardly make out the spell let alone her own writing. A few of her words stand out though, bolded.

_Body. Essence… revival._

_Another resurrection spell_, Elphaba realizes through a haze of wavering conscious. She thinks it's impossible that there could be so many contained within one book. She thought they exhausted the entire collection of them ages ago. She's also pretty sure they've already tired this one. The most that came of any of the spells was one of the nearer guards turning to straw.

When she looks back up at Morrible the proclaimed ruler has crazed look about her, one that Elphaba has grown accustomed to finding in the woman's darkened grey eyes. She can see the woman muttering under her breath, swearing that _this _one shall work.

Elphaba swallows thickly; wetting her cracked and dry lips before uttering in a hoarse and scratchy voice, "Please, no more…"

Morrible's eyes burn furiously into Elphaba's. A cry is strangled deep inside Elphaba's throat as a flash of pain erupts through her body. She falls back to her knees, panting as the silent onslaught of magic subsides. She feels Morrible's hands gripping her shirt collar once more, hoisting her back to her feet. The woman clicks her tongue in disappointment, once more holding the book out for Elphaba.

Elphaba uses the last of her strength to push the book away, glaring defiantly at Morrible as she barely manages so say, "it won't… work."

"_Read_!" Morrible growls, thrusting the book into Elphaba's stomach.

Elphaba grunts, clenching her jaw as she tenses, willing herself not to show the ache the jab has caused. She holds the book, ignoring Morrible's look of smug triumph. And with a bold grin pulling at her lips Elphaba lets it fall to the floor between her bare feet.

A hard and echoing smack resonates across the platform. Elphaba's head whips to the side, her cheek exploding with a fresh wave of piercing pain. Morrible retracts her hand, unsurprised to find Elphaba's blood staining a few of her fingernails. If anything she's pleased by the sight. Especially by the thin lines now carved into the side of the green woman's face. How dare she give up! How dare she try and _defy her_!

Elphaba takes a steeling breath as she turns to face Morrible. "You can slap me all you want," she tells her, voice low and filled with hostility. "Hurt me, I don't care. There is no answer, there _never _will be. Neither science nor magic can stop them!"

Again another slap is laid across Elphaba's broken skin. She holds her ground against the hit, barely flinching as she stares up at Morrible through dangerously narrowed eyes.

Morrible bristles at Elphaba's opposition, eyes blazing as she holds her red stained fingers up. "Do you see this?" she asks, stepping forward until her hand is mere inches from Elphaba's face. "This is why I will not stop. You have their _infected_ blood running through your veins and yet here you stand, cognizant and breathing while their organs and flesh rot!"

"_I'm not one of them_," Elphaba snarls.

"_You_ are the answer!" Morrible exclaims wiping her hand thoroughly along her coat whilst her gaze stays riveted to the brown eyes staring so unwavering back at her. She steps up to Elphaba, nearly brushing noses as she hisses, "_You_, this _hideous_ and _vile_ creature, have been gifted with the power meant for _us_, for _me_. I will not see this go to waste. _Now read_."

"It's over," Elphaba snaps back.

Morrible moves as if to strike Elphaba again but pauses, hand in midair as a smirk curls ominously at the corner of her mouth. Elphaba feels her stomach clench at the look of prevalent dominance settling across Morrible's features. The haughty arch of her brow, the malicious glint shinning in her light eyes.

_No_, Elphaba thinks, heart racing, legs no longer able to support her frame. She crashes back to the floor, tears brimming in her eyes, cursing herself for her stupidity once again. _Please,_ she pleads silently, head bowed; begging of Morrible not to do very thing she fears most.

"I don't know why you ever bother with these silly rebellious spats," Morrible says from above, tone full of scorn and suppressed laughter. "Not when you know what I can have done to Glinda."

The tears trail down Elphaba's cheek, stinging as they collect along her fresh cuts. She hears a scrape of something along the floor, a small pressure of an object pushing against her knees. Elphaba need not open her eyes to know Morrible has slid the book in front of her.

"_Please_, _leave her_…" she mutters, voice unrecognizable through the change in pitch, the shaky quality… the fear.

"Read," Morrible instructs calmly.

Elphaba nods quickly, tears spilling to the pages below, staining the paper pink. She stretches back, the palms of her hands molding to the emerald crystals, the hum of the power increasing with ever clock tick of prolonged contact. And when Elphaba feels the magic gripping her very heart, she begins to read the spell.

Morrible steps back, quick to distance herself from the magic manifesting so powerfully ahead of her. She ducks behind the enchanted barrier, the guards itching to join her nearby. Elphaba remains hunched over the book, voice growing louder as the emerald orbs seem to meld to her hands and glow vibrantly, almost blindingly.

Morrible shields her eyes, heart racing as the grin pulls wider on her face.

_This shall be the one_, she thinks rapturously to herself.

Elphaba can feel the crystals absorbing every last ounce of her magic with unforgiving ruthlessness as the enchantment intensifies. It hurts; it hurts far more than anything she's ever had to endure. Far more then rods in her hips and arrows slicing through her side. She swears each time will be her last, that surely her body cannot withstand this pain any longer. She feels as though she's being torn mercilessly apart from the inside out; as if her organs have sprouted spikes which sear their way through her muscle and flesh. This feels like dying. This feels like her soul is being ripped from her body.

She screams as the last word of the spell leaves her lips and the amplifier burns hot against her palms.

She can vaguely hear a few of the guards posted upon their towers cry out in agony. The horde screeches deafeningly in response. The crunch and snap of metal meets her ears; the loud impact of yet another tower collapsing into the ravenous horde.

Elphaba slumps in her bonds, nearing the brink of oblivion. Her eyes close, vision filled with flashes of blonde hair and infinite blue eyes.

"We'll try another spell tomorrow." Morrible mutters and the last Elphaba hears before succumbing to exhaustion is Morrible instructing the remaining guards to burn the Undead in the enclosure.

Burn them all.

* * *

><p>Fiyero is at a loss. Ever since Edlyn sent word to him of Galinda's return, <em>alone<em>, he's been intent upon inserting himself back into the blonde's life. At first in the capacity he wanted especially given the second chance he felt fate had just laid perfectly at his feet. He was elated upon arriving to his family's apartments and welcomed in joyously by Edlyn. Of the little that she was able to provide in her letter he knew Galinda had arrived safely, despite looking as though she crawled across Oz in order to get there. He was set upon winning back her affections, or in this case he mused, stirring said affections for him within her. He could not believe his luck.

How could Elphaba have let her go? Was she truly that stupid? She didn't seem so last they met. Was she dead then? Had Galinda killed her? The Undead? Had she turned?

Did it matter?

He would soon find out the cause for Galinda's return, but not before reinserting himself in her life as someone she could depend upon. Someone who would _not_ abandon her. Edlyn divulged to him that Galinda refused to leave her bedroom. As he knocked upon her door he heard a bit of shuffling on the other side, followed by some choice cursing before the door was opened a crack. Despite any warnings, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met his eyes.

Galinda did indeed look as Edlyn had described. As if she had crawled clear across Oz.

She also looked as though she left her dignity, sanity, and heart behind as well. Her once clear and seemingly endless blue eyes were dulled, vacant and lined so thickly with tears he was afraid their bloodshot appearance would be a perpetual mainstay. As she looked up at him he could see recognition, question and worry flickering in her glassy gaze. It was then he knew.

There would be no winning back of Galinda Upland. Something had gone horribly wrong on the girls' journey, something he wished desperately he could have been there to stop. Anything to have made sure the girl looking so despondent before him would cease to exist. He hated himself for letting them leave Kiamo Ko alone. He'd given them everything he could yet his pride kept him for volunteering to aid them in their journey as well.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, reaching out for her. "Galinda, I-"

"It's Glinda," she corrected him in a raspy and strained voice.

He didn't question the change, merely nodding, accepting the new woman before him.

She shut the door before he could get out another word.

It was weeks before she spoke to him again, demanding to know why he hadn't left. Why he didn't just leave like_ she_ had. Again he didn't question her anger, didn't press the matter further. Nor dare utter the name she seemed intent on avoiding. Edlyn watched on from the sitting room, curious to see the exchange play out. Her daughter hadn't spoken a word to her either since arriving to the home. Glinda was a ghost in the apartment, brushing past her in the halls, only ever venturing to the kitchen for a simple bite to eat, retreating to her room shortly thereafter.

She knew the blonde would sneak out at night; her boots were always missing from the foyer whenever Edlyn would wake for a midnight cap. She'd down a few more gulps of the aged liquor every time, praying her daughter had not reverted to her old sordid ways. She was an engaged woman, to a wonderful man. One who still wished to have her despite all the chaos she'd caused!

Yet her suspicions were always doused when she was roused from sleep by an increasingly familiar pattern of knocks against the front door. And there, held between two to three bored looking Gale Force patrolmen would be Glinda, a fury burning inside her eyes as she tried to dislodge their grip upon her arms. They would always let go when Edlyn answered and roll their eyes at Glinda's petulance. Her daughter would then shove the men aside and storm past Edlyn up to her room.

The resounding slam of the door would shoot a stabbing pain through Edlyn's heart. She didn't understand what had become of her daughter. She only hoped Fiyero would be able to get through to her.

So she stood watching their encounter, praying to Lurline that Glinda listened, _for once_, to the man trying so desperately to help her.

"Glinda, please, you have to talk to someone," Fiyero whispered, voice soft as he tried to guide Glinda toward one of the arm chairs.

"About what?" she snapped at him, shoving his assistance aside. "There is nothing to be said! I just wish to be _left_!"

"In time, it'll be all right."

"It will," she agreed, eyes focused outside the bay window toward the Palace, muttering something beneath her breath. She turned back to him and in a rumble of a voice demanded of him to leave.

Fiyero acquiesced. With downcast eyes and clenched fists he removed himself from the room. Edlyn could hear his footsteps retreat inside the home, the opening of the front door and subsequent click of it falling shut.

Glinda stood in the center of the room, clothes rumpled, deep discolored bags etched below her eyes. Edlyn watched her breathe, watched her daughter seem to struggle internally with something momentous. Something that seemed to be tearing her apart, slowly, day by day.

So she offered all she thought she could at the time. As Glinda finally allowed her legs to give and body to collapse to the armchair, Edlyn returned into the room. She placed a steaming, and comforting, mug of tea on top of the side table beside her daughter. She could see the tension in Glinda's shoulders wane, her eyes darting to the drink.

"Thank you," Glinda murmured quietly yet made no move to grab the cup.

Edlyn thought she might not be the best mother in the world, but the feeling that coursed through her at the simple acknowledgment from her daughter made her feel as though, for that moment, she was.

Fiyero has tried on countless occasions to breach through the stony silence Glinda seemed intent upon wearing. When Edlyn confessed to him of her nightly arrests he decided something must be done. He followed her as she snuck out the home, bow slung over her shoulders. She made her way through the streets, careful to avoid the Gale Force on patrol for the night. Concern creased his brow; the lines grew ever more prominent as he continued after the blonde. And when she attempted to string up her bow, preparing to fire it into the head of an unsuspecting Palace guard, Fiyero rushed forward and yanked the arrow straight out of her grasp.

"_What are you doing?_" he hissed, pulling Glinda aside before the man could hear their scuffle. He only released the blonde once they were tucked under an alcove along the Palace wall, far removed from sight and prying ears. It was well past curfew; if they were to be caught they'd surely be arrested. And the minimum penalty under Morrible's new law was at least a few weeks locked in Southstairs. Who was to know if she'd gotten power hungry again and changed it upon whim. What if it was a brutal lashing now? Or twenty! Not to mention the blonde was about to murder an innocent guard!

He couldn't bear to see the consequence of that fate fall upon Glinda. Not when he could stop it.

Glinda let out a groan as she leaned her back against the wall and glared up at Fiyero. "She's in there."

"Elphaba," He grumbled, _now_ understanding why the blonde had been so relentless. So the green girl was alive. "Was she arrested?"

It was only then that Glinda's stony façade begun to crack. He caught the briefest glimpse of regret flash in her eyes. The smallest quiver of her lips before she pursed them tightly together and cast her gaze to the pavement. It was more than just a simple arrest he realized. So much more.

Fiyero stepped forward, a gentle, grounding hand placed lightly a top Glinda's shoulder. "I can't help if I don't know what's happened."

They returned back to the home to find two cups of lukewarm tea already laid out for them in the sitting room as Edlyn's soft snores sounded down from a room above. They sat and Glinda told him everything.

Fiyero doesn't hate what Elphaba's done. If anything he can respect the sacrifice. But he hates that because of her Glinda has been left nothing but a shell of the woman he once was so fond of. Knowing the truth about their time together doesn't change how he feels. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to stop loving Glinda. And seeing her in such a heartbroken and surrendered state makes him wish he could just storm into the Palace and bring the green woman back himself.

But it's not an option. Not when he knows Elphaba _wanted_ Glinda to leave. He wished he could convince the blonde to let her go, that Elphaba won't be returning. But he knows it's futile. Glinda may be an emotional wreck but she's still stubborn. Dangerously so.

At the very least he's managed to keep her from attempting anymore perilous nightly operations. He wished there was more he could offer her. More he could do to ease her pain.

But as the weeks passed and Glinda became ever more distant, ever more despondent, he realized there was really only one thing he could do for her.

Just be there.

Just be there and hope that maybe today the blonde will smile.

Maybe today she'll finally start healing.

They sit now, fire burning warm in the hearth behind their backs as they watch a few families pass by, huddled close together on the street outside. _Winter will be harsh_, Fiyero thinks, spotting a bit of frost edged along the window frame. He hopes the family they are watching has enough funds or trinkets available to barter for the outstanding price he knows firewood will go for. The city has exhausted the trees stretching in a far radius around the containment walls. And despite the odd wane in Undead, the men of the city are still fearful of venturing too far outside the limits. Everyone can hear the cries of the ones sequestered somewhere behind the Palace. Morrible has said they are for experiments, for trials she is conducting in the name of destroying them once and for all.

Fiyero thinks the lack of them outside the walls is because they can hear the cries of those inside. They're staying away, avoiding the place which is sure to bring their blood-lust to an end.

They've grown smarter…

It worries him.

It worries Glinda even more.

"Are you going to the market today?" she asks him, hoping to quell the hurt once again taking hold of her heart.

"Do you need something?" he replies, taking a sip of his coffee. It's bitter, far more so than the supply he picked up the week previous. Even the quality of food has begun to suffer.

"A ring," she tells him, holding up her hand and rolling a few of her fingers. "She keeps pestering me about why you haven't gotten one. I'm sick of it."

Fiyero groans. For months now they've been pretending to Edlyn that their marriage is still eminent. Fiyero has no idea why. Especially since it's obviously clear the blonde holds no outward affection for him. But Glinda is insistent they carry out this charade.

"You have to tell her sometime," he lowers his voice as he speaks.

Glinda lets out a groan this time, tea jostling in her cup as she brings it down harder than necessary to the table. "I am tired of having this same argument over and over again, Fiyero. How many times can I tell you that she's all I have left? She's happy thinking we're together. She _lives_ for this. I don't want to take that from her…I can't lose her too."

Fiyero reaches for Glinda's hand but stops himself. It's not his place to comfort her. Not like this, no matter how much he wishes Glinda wouldn't flinch if he were to do so. He slides his hand back toward his cup. "You don't have to tell her about… her," he says cautiously. "Just that we're no longer together. She deserves to know the truth. If it helps any you can tell her I am leaving you for another woman."

Glinda sighs, propping her head up on her upturned palms, elbows resting against the table as she tilts her chin to the side to stare at Fiyero. "That won't work; she'll just send me after you to win you back."

Fiyero lets a smirk cross his lips. "How about if it's a man?"

And there, just for a second, a smile is upon Glinda's face. Fiyero finds himself grinning despite his efforts not to at the expression he's been longing to see again. He feels his enthusiasm must scare the blonde, as she retreats back into herself, staring once more with that vacant look out the bay window. "Thanks Fiyero," she mumbles. "But it'll be all right. She's happy now. Oz, I haven't seen her happy in ages; I can't ruin this for her just because my life is falling apart."

"She's your mother Glinda. She should live for seeing _you_ happy, not the other way around."

Glinda scoffs. "Says the Selfish Prince of Vanityland."

Fiyero can't help it as he lets out an embarrassed groan for the blonde. "Oz, even your comebacks are suffering. I will not sit by and allow you to squander your only talent left like this. We are going out!"

Glinda idly swats at his attempts to pull her from her seat. "I don't want to go out Fiyero."

"Of course you don't!" He exclaims, motioning out the window as he tells her heatedly, "you're too busy being depressed because of someone I can't mention lest I want your fist in my face again. So we're going out to do something about this. When was the last time you had some _fun_?"

Glinda stands from her seat, keeping her distance from Fiyero as she picks up her cup and levels him with a withering glare. "I'm going to my room."

"I'm not saying it has to be with me!" he says, cheeks growing red, flustered by the blonde's indifference.

Glinda points up the stairs as she says from over her shoulder. "Still going to my room."

Fiyero rushes forward, blocking her path, arms stretched out between the wall and banister as he pleads, "Come on Glinda, come to the Philosophy Club with me tonight. If anything it'll make you forget for just a little while."

The blonde hesitates. Fiyero's heart races as he hopes she considers his offer. He's desperate for something, even the slightest inclination of desire to do something aside from sit in her room again, no doubt sulking as usual. He can find her a woman, someone to get her mind off the green one he knows haunts her thoughts. Anything to get her to start living again.

But when her eyes meet his, he realizes it's a futile cause. Glinda shakes her head as she tells him softly, "I… I can't."

He allows her to pass, her steps heavy as she climbs up the stairs. "You can't hold onto her forever Glinda," he says. "She left you and she's not coming back."

"I know," is her reply before she disappears around the corner and he doesn't see her again for three days.

* * *

><p>She tried gaining access to the Palace again, this time via the tunnels built for the Undead that Morrible has been herding into the back gardens. They let out into crudely burrowed hollows, a poorly constructed system of gateways and alcoves filled with tanks and tubes. She was spotted by a guard and before she could even render his voice silent another ambushed her from the back. They dragged her back home, another useless warning given before leaving to return to the Palace. Glinda knows she has Elphaba to thank for her treatment. She's sure even if she were to kill one of Morrible's men she'd be let go with nothing more than a stern reprimand. She can still vaguely smell the oil that permeated the air in the tunnels as she leans against one of the counters in the kitchen, waiting for Edlyn to hand her the slice of bread she insisted upon buttering for Glinda herself.<p>

"I'm twenty, Mother," she says. "I believe I am more than capable of fixing myself some toasted bread."

"I want to," Edlyn tells her as she strokes the knife across the burnt and warm piece of stale bread. She sighs as she hands the bread to her daughter. "I know I haven't been the most… attentive mother but I am trying to do right now," she says with a small smile as Glinda takes a bite. "If that means coddling you a bit then you will just have to suffer, I suppose."

"You make me toast but don't think to question where I've been all night?" Glinda counters, her tone laced with a hint of bitter tension.

Edlyn visibly bristles at being addressed this way but brushes her daughter's tone aside. "Fiyero's let me know he looks after you," she replies simply. "I trust him to take care of you."

"I can take care of_ myself_," Glinda says with thinly veiled resentment, bread now forgotten on the counter.

"Galin-_Glinda_, please, let's not argue," Edlyn pleads, sitting down at the kitchen table. Her face morphs, the once frustrated lines etched into her forehead smoothing as she smiles up at her daughter. "Now, do tell me how he's doing. He seems distant lately and it worries me. Have you been-"

Edlyn's question is cut short, her tea spilling to the table as Glinda lets out an exasperated roar. She stares up at her daughter, confusion crossing her brow at the sudden outburst. "What's wrong now?"

Glinda cannot believe the audacity of her mother. She cannot believe she could stand there so easily, promising to be a better mother, buttering her toast and then so easily switch back to the callous and selfish person she's always been. Glinda has shown up in the apartments a mess, trousers smeared with dirt, reeking of Oz knows what kind of toxic substance was leaking in those tunnels and all her mother cares to ask after is Fiyero. Not how Glinda is doing, not how she is the one on the brink of a mental and emotional collapse. Oh no, that's _too much_ to ask. Instead it's: how is Fiyero? How is her supposed _fiancé_? How is _he_ holding up thorough all of this?

Glinda has had enough.

"This tea isn't cheap you know," Edlyn chastises as she blots it up with a kitchen towel.

With utmost seriousness Glinda tells her, "I broke off the engagement."

Edlyn stares at Glinda a moment before dissolving into laughter. "Nice to see your dry humor is coming back."

But Glinda isn't smirking; she isn't laughing. Her expression remains stern, unquestioning and hard.

Edlyn's laughter fades as her eyes meet those of her daughter. A prickle of fear grips her heart. If what Glinda speaks is the truth… then what is to become of them? Where are they to go? As her eyes dart between the resolute blue ones ahead Edlyn grows furious.

Glinda is ruining everything for them, _again_. And this time without any sign of remorse!

"Why would you call it off with him?" she demands, shooting up from her chair. "Are you mad?" Upon hearing the raised tone of her own voice Edlyn quiets, casting a glance over her shoulder to make sure Fiyero is no where within sight before she stands in front of her daughter. In a low voice she tells her heatedly, "You're lucky he is such a good man and still wished you marry you after that, that _embarrassing_ ordeal from last year!"

"Since when is fighting for what is right embarrassing, Mother?" Glinda spits back, rising to her full height, level with Edlyn. "If Popsicle were here he would agree with me!"

Edlyn narrows her eyes, growling out, "You are lucky your father wasn't alive to see his daughter blasted as a fugitive running about with some _wicked,_ _green_ _thing_!"

Glinda's fists clench, fingers digging into the counter edge behind her. "_Shut up, Mother_."

Edlyn steps up to her daughter, pinning her with her enraged presence. "I will do no such thing! You need to fix this situation with Fiyero before it's too late."

"What is done is done," Glinda mutters before shoving her mother aside. She feels like she can breathe again with the distance now placed between them. She can see a vein along her mother's neck throbbing; the woman is obviously incensed. All over a marriage that will never be. Glinda glares at her mother, feeling fleetingly victorious as she says, "I never loved him."

Glinda is shocked silent for a moment when Edlyn replies with a simple, "So?"

When Glinda finds her voice she sputters, "So? _So?_ That is all you have to say?" She thinks she finally understands her mother. It wouldn't have ever mattered what Glinda wanted, what would have made her happy… Glinda feels repulsed just looking at Edlyn, knowing the woman would have been elated to sell her daughter off to the richest bidder. What if she'd never met Fiyero? Who would Edlyn have turned her sights on next? Glinda had hoped, _hoped_ so very much that her mother was changed. That the small instances where she showed the smallest bit of compassion were her way of letting Glinda know she cared for her daughters wellbeing. And while, yes, Glinda realizes that marrying someone for the security their money would provide is a way of doing that, she also knows if her father were here he'd never allow it. Not if it meant sacrificing her happiness.

Tears blur Glinda's vision as she asks quietly, "Is that what you want for me?"

Edlyn sighs, expression softening as she comes up to her daughter once more. "I want what is best for you Glinda," she tells her earnestly and Glinda believes her. It's what she's always wanted for her, for them. Edlyn continues as she wraps Glinda into a hug, the first embrace she's given her daughter since opening that door months ago last summer to find the younger woman a sobbing mess upon the threshold. Edlyn continues, voice soft, "It's just sometimes what is best is not what the heart desires. You will learn to love Fiyero as I learned to love your father."

"I can't, not the way he deserves to be loved." Glinda clings to her mother as she confesses, "what is best for me is gone."

Glinda feels her mother stiffen against her, pulling back slightly to ask, "Who is it?"

With a sniffle Glinda stands upright, upset to find that look of fury building once more in her mother's blue eyes. "Who is what?"

"Don't play stupid with me!" Edlyn shouts. "Just look at you! You're a mess Galinda! Who is _best _for you? Oh Oz, it's not that servant girl is it? You'd really give all this up for her? I thou-Galinda! Galinda, come back here!"

Edlyn's voice rings out, echoing in the empty halls as Glinda flees from the room, too consumed with anger – with _hate _– for the woman she refuses to call her mother any longer.

* * *

><p>That night she huddles beneath her sheets, tired and spent from the hours of tears that refused to cease pouring down her face. Fiyero came in, trying to soothe her hurt with whispered words of promise and hope but she sent him away. She doesn't understand why he stays, why he puts up with her. Why he tries so hard… it's all pointless, she thinks. But she's grateful for his presence, for she just overheard him as he stood outside her door, telling Edlyn she wishes to be alone.<p>

A few hours pass when sleep finally begins to blessedly take Glinda. She stirs upon hearing the soft patter of feet outside her door. She ignores it, assuming Fiyero has just come to check up on her, unnecessarily, _again_, for the fourth time that night. She rolls over, facing away from the door as it opens.

She is surprised when she feels the bed dip and the familiar scent of her mother's perfume floods her senses.

"_Get out_," Glinda tells her, tone betraying her hardened emotions. Tired, angry, upset, _done_.

Edlyn winces at the disdain dripping from her daughter's command. But she must make right. She must say everything she's been meaning to say to Glinda all day, things that she should have told her years ago. Her heart is heavy. She knows this may be the last time she gets a chance to say these words – perhaps even her last chance to speak to her daughter again. So she takes a deep, calming breath before she begins, "I'm so sorry, Glinda."

Glinda's eyes widen at the foreign apologetic tone coating her mother's words. It's sincere, it's heartfelt. It makes Glinda shiver.

She feels a hand, light and tender on her shoulder. The touch is warm and inviting, unlike any affection her mother has ever given her. Glinda bites her lip, gripping tighter to her blankets as her mother's soft voice fills the quiet room.

"I know I've said this before," Edlyn says, staring down at Glinda, imagining the young woman curled beneath the sheets is nothing more than the little girl she feels she abandoned all those years ago in Mottica. She reaches out, brushing some of the blonde curls behind her daughter's neck, ignoring the stab of guilt in her chest at the way Glinda recoils at her touch.

"You deserve to know, why I've been… why I _am_ this way," she tells her quietly. "I'm not a good mother. I know this. I wish I could be the mother you deserve, I've tried to be, _am_ trying, still… but it's not enough, is it? I hurt you." Glinda can hear her mother's voice catch, the hand along her arm sliding down to the bed.

She spares a glance over her shoulder. Her mother's eyes are downcast as her fingers toy with a few pieces of lint on the bed.

"I never wanted to be a mother," Edlyn confesses. "I couldn't even see myself with child, glowing like all the other woman would. A child would mean sacrifice. Undead notwithstanding, it was something we did not wish to have. Your father agreed. We were careful when he…" She trails off growing a bit hot beneath her collar, uncomfortable divulging even that hint of the intimacies shared.

Glinda swallows down the bitter taste that forms along her tongue at the thought.

"Needless to say not careful enough," Edlyn forces out a chuckle. "When I told him I was pregnant with you I was so afraid of how he'd react. You didn't know him as I did, Glinda. Before you were born he was a different man. The minute you came into this world it was as if someone lit a fire inside him. It burned only for you, to ensure _you_ were kept safe, that _you_ were cared for, given everything he could afford and manage to forfeit."

This time when Glinda swallows, it's to dislodge the lump that has formed in her throat at the memories of her father brought up by her mother's words.

"He may not have showed it, but he adored you," Edlyn whispers. "Every night he'd fret over what your future would hold. Would you be safe? Would you find someone to protect you when he no longer could … mostly he worried that you'd become like me."

"How?" Glinda asks quietly, turning to face her mother as she sits up in the bed.

"That you'd be unhappy," Edlyn says a wistful smile upon her lips as she reaches up once again to brush some hair back from Glinda's face. "I don't want that for you. I don't want you to live regretting the choices in life you've made and I'm _sorry_ to have been the one to make so many poor ones for you."

"Momsie," Glinda whispers as her mother's shoulders fall and her eyes grow wet with tears.

"You were the happiness in his life, _you_," Edlyn says fiercely, cupping Glinda's cheeks between her palms as she gazes intently into the eyes that so much mirror her own. "And I'm so sorry I made you feel as if you were any different in mine. It may have taken me longer to realize it but you are Glinda, _you are_. I never wanted to be a mother but I am _proud_ to be yours. Grateful that despite all my shortcomings _my daughter_ has become such a strong, smart, capable and beautiful young woman."

Glinda's cheeks warm beneath her mother's hands.

Edlyn smiles playfully. "But we all know where that last bit comes from."

"Why are you telling me this now?" Glinda asks as she picks her mother's hands from her face and lays them gently in her lap, clasped within her own.

"Because as much as I'd like to see you married to Fiyero and kept safe in a castle for the rest of your life —blame my newfound maternal instinct to want you protected always for that— I know it wouldn't make you happy," Edlyn tells her and with a small grin she says, "Someone else does though. And whoever he-_she_… whoever _she_ is must be someone incredible since you obviously love her so."

"She is," Glinda manages to squeak past all the emotions seeming to overwhelm her.

"I know things are different now," Edlyn says as she pulls her tearful daughter into her arms. "Lurline, the whole of Oz is changed but who you love shouldn't matter. I don't know who she is, or where she is now but if she makes you happy then that's who you need to be with."

Glinda hugs her mother close as she buries her face into her neck and tells her through choked sobs, "she left me."

"Does she love you?" Edlyn asks and Glinda nods, holding tight. "Then do what I know you do best. _Fight_."

Glinda feels like laughing as she remains wrapped in her mother's arms. She feels light. Lighter than she's felt since that fateful night at the Palace. Outside in the hall she can see the traces of a shadow moving beneath the door. Fiyero has obviously overheard the conversation and now retreats to his rooms. She feels sorry for him, sorry that the hope she knows he's held for her was more than likely completely dashed just now.

As Edlyn pulls away, smoothing down Glinda's unruly hair she whispers for Glinda to have fresh dreams, that she loves her, and that she will have some choice words for the girl Glinda brings home to finally meet her.

"Get out, Momsie," Glinda jests with a chuckle as her mother finally moves to the door and closes it softly behind her on the way out.

_Fight_, Glinda muses to herself as she settles back onto the bed. If only her mother knew just how much she's be trying. From somewhere below she hears the front door open and shut. _Fiyero_, she thinks, sighing at his less than stealthy departure. She wonders briefly where he may be off too, especially at this hour and so far past curfew but she knows it is none of her business. And Fiyero is more than capable of taking care of himself.

A light flashes from outside her window, a brilliant glow of green shooting into the sky near the Palace. Glinda's heart clenches at the sight; at what she knows could only be power unleashed from Elphaba.

Without second thought she is up and out of her bed. Within minutes she is on the streets, running toward the Palace, careful to keep clear of the patrols she's memorized the paths of by now. She will fight for Elphaba.

She will never stop fighting for her.

They'll have to kill her first.

* * *

><p>Elphaba is carried back down to her cell, limp in the arms of a guard repulsed with the order he's been given to return her safely to the dungeons. She is barely conscious; every breath pulled into her lungs is a labor of effort. Her head hands loosely, swaying with every heavy —purposefully so, she thinks— step the guard takes. His pace is hurried and her body aches, bent uncomfortably as she is. The cold, stale air of the cellar washes over her and for once she's relieved. They'll be at her cell soon. She can curl into a ball upon her bed, letting the sleep she wants so desperately consume her in numbness.<p>

With a toss she is dropped behind the enchanted metal door. The prison is closed, locked as the guard rushes away, wiping furiously at his arms and chest as he climbs back up the stairs. As the last of his steps retreat Elphaba is left in blissful silence, alone. Of the twenty-some odd cells in the Palace jail she is the sole occupant. Whenever a new citizen is jailed and brought down to join her it is merely for the night. No matter their crime, the insignificance of their offense, they all meet the same dire fate.

They are all turned and added to Morrible's Undead horde.

Curling beneath her thin sheet Elphaba can hear a few of the guards above making their rounds. They dare not venture down to her containment unless necessary. The guards never touch her for fear of contracting the disease she so adamantly used to proclaim she was free of. She barely pays them any attention as they spit at her door when they pass. She doesn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her discomfort as they prod her awake with sticks and rocks thrown through the bars.

Elphaba feels as if she's an animal on display. Trapped inside her exhibit like the ones in the books Nanny used to read to her. It wasn't always like this, she thinks as her eyes fall closed. Morrible did once show her kindness. She once had a room with a warm fire and filling food upon her plate. But with every failed spell, every day that passed without promise of an end to those beasts, Morrible grew more and more hungry for power. The view was a distraction, she'd said before moving Elphaba to a central room.

And when no results were forthcoming she blamed it upon the staff. They were a distraction, something Elphaba clearly never had the need for before and would prosper well without once again.

It was the bedding next, too comfortable, too enticing for sleep.

The room too big, too many books to distract.

Too airy, too warm, too close to library, too near the kitchens, too far from the labs, too easily escaped…

The dungeons were perfect.

She hugs her knees up to her chest, rubbing her sore wrists, wincing as her skin peels and she feels her blood stain along the straw bed below. She wishes she had the energy to break free from this prison. She knows the spell placed over the bars isn't enough to contain her, not when she's fully rested. But they never give her that chance.

She wishes more that she could be with Glinda. That she could just see her; tell her how sorry she is for all of this.

The last time she'd tried to use her magic to escape the bars of her cell she barely made it up the stairs before exhaustion claimed her upon the top landing. She truly believes Morrible is mad with power and cannot see the truth in front of her eyes. Elphaba is sure she will die soon; she is sure her body cannot withstand any more pain. And then what shall happen? Who will Morrible force to stand in her place? There is no one in Oz like her, no one with the power to read from the Grimmerie.

There will be no one left in the City at the rate Morrible arrests the citizens for her demented plans anyway.

There's a scuffling of boots above her head. The muffled voices of some men deep in argument. Elphaba sighs as she rolls to face the wall. She wishes not to see the latest victim of Morrible's insanity. The faces of the ones she has glimpsed already haunt her subconscious.

The cell beside her own is opened with a scratch of metal against the stone floor. The man is thrown roughly inside, grunting as he slams his fists against the bars in protest. She curls in on herself, willing sleep to take her already.

But her eyes are quick to open, wide and panicked when she hears the man calling her name.

"Elphaba? Sweet Oz, it is you!" Fiyero sounds surprised, relieved and all at once upset at the sight of the green woman in the adjacent cell. He walks over, hands gripping two of the bars as he looks on, astonished at the horrid condition of Elphaba's cell… at the chains and shackles peeking out from beneath her blanket. "Are you all right?" he asks, genuinely concerned.

For all he's imagined of the girl's life in the Palace this was certainly never a possibility that crossed his mind. It's obvious she's been kept down here for a while, the pattern of footprints in the dirt of her cell are far too many in number for just once night. He spots a desk, with a broken leg propped against the bars near the door. He wonders what it's for and why there is a pile of books resting against the floor beside it.

How long has she been here?

He wonders why she's being kept locked up like a criminal.

Elphaba turns to face Fiyero, fearing the worst if he's been thrown inside the dungeons. Panic floods her senses, leaving her faint and lightheaded as she tries to sit up.

"Whoa," she can hear Fiyero saying, his hands a blur of tan skin as he motions for her to stay. "Not so fast. You look a bit concussed."

"Glinda," she rasps, breathless, meeting his gaze. "Where-" her voice dies as a cough rips from her throat.

"Don't worry, Glinda's safe," Fiyero assures her a bit of a wistful quality to his tone. "She misses you. Oz… she's tried _everything_ to free you and had I known this is what's become of you…" he trails off as all the resentment he used to hold for the woman so clearly in need of help before him seems to dissipate from his mind. "I'm sorry Morrible has done this to you."

The flood of relief that washes over Elphaba at the assurance of Glinda's wellbeing nearly knocks her unconscious. She digs her hands into the floor, the chains of her bonds clinking loudly, echoing deep through the corridor as she wills herself to stay awake just a few moments longer. "What's… happened?" she manages to ask weakly.

"I was arrested for breaking curfew," Fiyero explains, eyes shooting toward the stairs with a glare. "Apparently diplomatic immunities have somehow been _stricken_ from record."

"Fiyero… you need to know… they're going to _take you_," Elphaba stresses, hoping to convey as much seriousness into her tone as she can. As much urgency as her eyes will allow. "You don't… have much time."

Fiyero's brow creases. "What do you mean? Am I moving cells or something because this one is fine, a little filthy but at least I have company right?" he smiles, the grin not quite reaching his eyes. Elphaba thinks in this moment that Glinda was right about him, they are very much the same person. She can't believe he can even muster up the courage the make light of his situation, but then she knows he's also unaware at the fate he will soon meet.

She can't let him turn into one of them.

She won't let him fall to Morrible's whim.

The door opens above and Elphaba feels a chill claw at her bones. _They're too soon_, she thinks. She needs more time! Standing to shaky legs she stumbles toward the bars, pleading with the guards to leave Fiyero be as they stalk toward his cell. They ignore her calls, opening his cell without response as two move inside to apprehend Fiyero.

He punches one and is about to land a hit to the other when the guard lands a blow to Fiyero's gut with the butt of his rifle.

"Stop!" Elphaba screams. Another scream wretches from her throat as the third guard shoves her from the bars with a pole.

"Leave her!" Fiyero yells as he struggles beneath the hold of the guards who've pinned his arms behind his back. "Can't you see she's hurt enough!"

"Not him," Elphaba pleads as her legs give out and she slides to the floor. "_Please_."

"I'll be fine Elphaba," he tells her as they lead him away. "I'll get this settled. I'll get you back to her!"

Elphaba watches them escort Fiyero away, her chest heaving with ragged breaths at each step they take him closer to his death. She can feel the familiar pull of coma wanting to drag her to the floor. Her eyes slam shut as a surge of magic fills her heart. The muscle beats faster and Elphaba knows she hasn't much time. With the last of her strength and energy focused upon the guards Elphaba mutters an enchantment burned to her memory.

She watches as they crumble, succumbing to dreams along the floor.

Her own body finally gives out as she falls back as well.

The last thing she hears before her whole world goes black is the clatter of metal against the lock of her door and Fiyero's voice whispering urgently, "I'll get you back to her."

* * *

><p>Glinda covers her nose, head throbbing at the stench of death which seems to permeate the tunnels on this night. There are no guards below, possibly none wishing to endure the disgusting odor. She cannot blame them and is entirely pleased with their absence. With her bow gripped in her palms she exits the system somewhere near the Palace boiler rooms. It makes sense, she thinks. The smell of oil she remembers from before is the same smell which mingles with the scent below. Though why the coal burning inside the stacks would be replaced with oil she hasn't a clue. As she passes by one of the cast iron stoves she's surprised to find coal burning inside and not the oil she could smell so clearly in the tunnels.<p>

She wonders what the oil is for as she climbs up the stairs and makes her way up the servant entrance. The halls are empty, devoid of even one sentry as she rushes up to Morrible's room. She's suspicious of the lack of patrol but attributes it to Morrible's increasingly cynical ways. Of course she'd not trust her own men inside her fortress. After all, Glinda was once her best and now she is one of Morrible's most dangerous enemies. She presses her ear against the door but she hears nothing inside the room. Satisfied, she moves onward in search of the room Morrible promised to Elphaba.

She must open at least a dozen doors until she finds the one she knows once belonged to the green woman. Elphaba's broom is leaned against the far wall. Her heart stills as she looks down to the bed, the sheets unmade and a stilling spot of dried blood staining the white fabric near the nightstand.

She stops breathing at the sight. Something went wrong. Elphaba is hurt. And somewhere in this Palace Morrible is keeping her hidden. Glinda's chest tightens at the implications. At the various scenarios of pain running through her head she imagines Elphaba must have endured. Is still enduring, _now_. She clenches her jaw as she unsheathes her dagger.

She will kill Morrible.

She will end this.

_Right now._

The first guard she meets is a feeble thing, fresh out of training and in a uniform too big for his lanky frame. He towers over Glinda in height but with her dagger pressed against his throat he feels nothing like a man under her towering presence.

"_Where is she_?" she demands with a hiss.

He knows better than to play dumb. All the guards in the palace know of Glinda Upland. Of the sole purpose to her seemingly futile exploits. But they fear her as well. They fear her if they are caught alone. Because alone they cease to live another day.

"D-dungeons," he stammers, slamming his eyes closed in preparation for the slicing of his throat he knows is soon to follow.

Glinda shoves him aside, an elbow forcefully placed to his gut. The man doubles over and no sooner is his head level with Glinda's that she brings down the hilt of her dagger to the tender joint at the back of his head. The boy crumbles to the floor, unconscious and Glinda takes off for the dungeons.

When she arrives, out of breath, and anxious to finally free Elphaba she's surprised to find the cells are empty.

All save for one.

The one where Morrible stands, waiting for her.


	23. Sacrifice

**Chapter 23**

_Sacrifice_

A familiar scent surrounds Elphaba, comforting her. It's faded some, just a trace of the soothing smell lingers on the pillow her cheek is pressed against. And yet the small hint of it calms her... fills her. She nuzzles into the worn fabric, inhaling deeply. She remembers the first time she ever encountered the fragrance. A splash of blood lay across her nose, a dirty alley beneath her feet. There was a yellow dress. It was bright, stark, against the blue of the sky and the grey of the buildings around. Beautiful. Her consciousness wavers in the memory, weightlessness pulling at her body. She feels faint. The sensation that courses through her now is the same one she felt that morning in the alley as two hands gently guided her to rest against the wall. Her legs were weak, senses overwhelmed by the woman who had just saved her life.

_Glinda. _

Brown eyes open, squinting against the bright sunlight pouring in through the gaps in the boarded window. Elphaba rolls to her back, Glinda's scent no longer embracing her. All she smells now is the musty air, filled with dust and neglect. She's back at Glinda's apartment, the one she recalls the blonde shared with her mother… where Glinda brought her on that fateful day before they made their escape from the city.

She tries to sit up, but her muscles protest the effort. A groan pulls from her throat at the pain shooting down her spine.

Something jostles beside her. She hears a scraping sound along the wooden floor followed by two thuds. Elphaba turns at the noise, catching a glimpse of Fiyero wobbling on the chair he obviously just woke up on. With a shake of his head he sits upright, legs swinging from where they rest hooked over the arms.

She must have startled him, Elphaba thinks. She tries once again to pull herself up but finds her body pathetically flopping back down to the mattress, the springs squeaking lightly in protest under her malnourished weight.

"You're awake!" Fiyero beams, stuffing the pistol that was resting openly in his lap back inside its holster. "How are you feeling?" he asks. His eyes rake over Elphaba and she pulls the sheet tighter around her body. Her cheeks burn as she realizes her clothes have been changed, the loose fitting slip now hanging from her shoulders obvious evidence of the glaring breach of privacy. And what more that Fiyero must have seen her, _all _of her.

And without her consent!

She opens her mouth, ready to lash out a string of vicious words but finds her throat unwillingly to cooperate, her voice lost; nothing but a rasp of air gurgles forth.

Fiyero's once excited expression turns worried upon hearing Elphaba's struggles. He helps her to sit up, ignoring the way she stiffens in his arms and tries to slither from his grasp. He moves away, distancing himself once more as she rests back against the cracked headboard.

Elphaba brings a hand to her neck, rubbing at her throat, hoping to dislodge whatever it is that seems to have wrapped itself thickly around her voice. That's when she notices the bandages upon her wrists and the splints taped to her fingers. They are tied so meticulously to support the fractured bones that the constant thrum of pain usually throbbing within them has stopped.

"I had to," Fiyero explains, voice soft as he motions to her hands and then casually to the rest of her body. "I didn't know when you'd wake up and you were so badly hurt I just– I'm sorry if you would rather me not have but instinct kicked in I guess," he shrugs, flustered as his eyes divert to a spot near the edge of the small mattress. Elphaba can see a hint of rouge tinting Fiyero's cheeks. It unsettles her. Why would he have any reason to be embarrassed, let alone over her? Was having to touch her truly so discomforting to him? She can't say she's not pleased if that were the case. When he finally does meet her eyes Elphaba sees none of the uncertainty that coated his expression mere moments before. If anything he seems a bit miffed as he tells her, "I apologize for infringing your boundaries but Glinda would kill me if anything were to happen to you under my watch."

_Glinda_, Elphaba's heart clenches at hearing the woman's name. Her eyes immediately dart to the door.

"She's not here," Fiyero says, noticing where her gaze has rooted. When Elphaba looks back at him, eyes screaming to convey the distress she cannot word, Fiyero's lips pull into a frown as he explains, "She's safe though, don't worry. She's with her mother back at my apartments a few neighborhoods over. And judging by the hour she is probably partaking in her morning self pity ritual by now."

Elphaba squints at Fiyero, confused for a moment before the words sink in and she realizes what he means. Glinda's despondent, irrevocably so it seems if Fiyero's expression of poorly subdued blame toward her is any indication. Elphaba feels herself grow warm, anger quick to manifest and take hold of her heart. She is infuriated, not with Fiyero… but with herself. _He has every right to blame me_, she thinks. She regrets ever leaving the blonde. She regrets more not trying harder to get back to her. Especially after it became obvious there would be no end to the Undead.

Her body grows fatigued shortly after that thought. Her breaths become labored as she slumps down on the bed. Fiyero rushes to her side, reaching forward to check her temperature but quickly retracting his hand in response to her glower.

He sighs, frustrated, as he steps back once again. "Look, you're not well and clearly aren't in any condition to be moved," he says holding her gaze steadily as he continues, "I would have taken you to her last night but there were guards posted everywhere along my street. This was the only safe place I could think of to bring you. And while yes, I have seen you bare and yes, I probably deserve the smack you want to land on my face, just know that I am doing this all _for her_. Know that I stayed up the rest of the night to ensure _you_ were safe and watched over _for her_."

Elphaba wets her lips, shifting uncomfortably in the lumpy bed. She appreciates Fiyero's help, she truly does. If it weren't for him she would still be back in that cell… but then she's aware that if she'd woken up there it would have meant he'd fled without her. Even after her help…

_He didn't though_, she thinks. Because he's still in love with Glinda.

It doesn't matter.

_He's right_, she sighs to herself. He's doing this for Glinda. A small part of her hopes that even if he wasn't he still would have had the decency to save her, but she's also not quite sure. Who's to say his feelings of her have changed? Does he still think her vile? More so now that he's seen the scars marring her body? If anything she knows he must despise her for not treating Glinda well. For leaving her…

Fiyero is conflicted when it comes to his thoughts and newly stirred emotions for the green woman before him. A part of him wishes to do nothing more than yell at her, demand answers for why she'd ever leave Glinda. He wants to tell her of every minute he's had to spend watching as the blonde falls further and further into despair, still clinging to the hope that _she _would come back or at least return willingly on one of Glinda's rescue attempts. Where has she been all these months while the blonde cried herself to sleep? What has she been doing that could be worth the pain the girl she supposedly loves has been enduring?

Yet as he sees the hard lines of Elphaba's obvious disdain for him abate, her features softening, the implications of his earlier words sinking inside her head, he knows he can't hate her. Not when she gave up everything for the hope of freeing them all. For, in her own way, keeping Glinda safe. For that reason alone he can forgive her for what she's wrought upon his best friend... the woman he's afraid he will never be able to let go. He wants nothing more than to see the blonde happy. And it's now with a somber heart that he knows Elphaba is the key to that happiness. He's spent so long being angry at the green woman. After dressing her wounds last night he feels his anger could be better served focused on a different woman. The one who's caused all of this.

"If Glinda doesn't kill Morrible first, I will," Fiyero says aloud, voice full of conviction.

With those words Elphaba knows he's not the one she should be upset with. She nods, agreeing as she sits up straighter, wincing at the pull of her skin beneath the tight bandages wrapped about her torso.

"Take it easy," Fiyero insists. "Would you like some water?"

At her nod he fetches the glass he left prepared for her beside the bed. Elphaba gulps it down, parched and silently asking for another. Fiyero's worry only grows more as she drains another two. When was the last time she's eaten? The last time she's been shown kindness?

With her stomach full of water and throat no longer clasped shut Elphaba's voice returns, meek and scratchy as she tells him, "I need to see her, _please_."

"Okay, okay, but you can't move, all right?" Fiyero says, withdrawing his pistol and leaving it near her hand a top the mattress. "Just in case," he explains when she gives him a quizzical look. "I'm serious, don't move. You need to rest. I'll go get her and bring her back, all right?"

She nods again, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at his instance. She's not a child. She can care for herself. Fiyero gives her one last look before collecting his coat and rushing out the door.

Once she's alone Elphaba lies back in the bed. Glinda's scent envelops her once more. A smile, the first genuine one she feels has crossed her lips in well over half a year, forms across her face.

She must have dozed off because before she knows it Fiyero has returned. He burst through the door in a frenzy, expression conveying all she need know.

Elphaba doesn't have to wait for the words to leave his mouth.

His entrance said everything for her.

Glinda has been taken by Morrible.

* * *

><p>The cell smells like blood, Glinda thinks. Blood, sweat and a scent she can only attribute to death. It is unmistakable. It coats the stone walls and permeates the stale air. She swears she can taste it along her tongue, rancid and decayed. It sticks to the roof of her mouth, seeming to seep into her stomach, trying to drag her down. It's a slow sensation that surrounds her, pulsing just beneath her skin, casting a layer of cold sweat along her brow in its wake. It's by far the worst she's felt in months.<p>

She doesn't wish this place upon anyone.

It's no wonder Morrible left her here.

A spike of pain drives through Glinda's temple as she turns her head. She winces, eyes slamming shut in a reflexive effort to dull the ache. She feels as though her head is being split open and as she raises a hand to the skin she half expects her fingers to come away stained red. But when she opens her eyes her fingers are clean, albeit a bit smudged from the dirt coating the floor of the cell.

There's another scent in the room, one that reminds her of warm nights spent in forests, of fire and heated green skin.

_Elphaba_.

She knows without a doubt Morrible has left her in Elphaba's cell.

With a cringe she sits up, pieces of hay stuck in her hair as she takes in the small, enclosed space. She can't believe Morrible has been keeping Elphaba in such deplorable conditions. Though, really, she shouldn't be surprised, she thinks. A part of her always knew this was a possibility. It only makes Glinda's rage at Morrible burn hotter. Her desire to run her dagger through that cold heart all the more pressing.

But another desire stirs in her heart as she stands from the floor. One that has her mind racing with possibilities. For despite knowing she is in Elphaba's cell, she does not know where the woman is now.

"Ah, you're up, good," Morrible says as she makes her way down the stairs just a few cells along the dungeon corridor from her own. She's followed by a few men Glinda recognizes from the class below hers at Kellswater. Their eyes flitter over her, gazes steely as she glares back at them. "I would have taken you to one of our better rooms but seeing as you prefer the company of the stricken I figured you wouldn't mind the same accommodations."

The men repress snickers, clearing their throats as they stand to attention.

Glinda growls, ignoring them as she turns her heated stare on Morrible. "_Where is she_?" she demands.

"You should be asking that to your Prince," Morrible says as she taps a few of her fingers against one of the bars of Glinda's cell. Her eyes meet the blonde's and she can't help but smirk as she delivers the reminder of the news. "They escaped, together, last night."

Glinda feels her heart skip a beat. Fiyero rescued Elphaba? But why? He doesn't even care for her! Where have they gone? "W-what?" is all that Glinda manages to stammer out.

"Yes, tragic, I know," Morrible offhandedly intones with a wave of her hand. One guard extracts a set of keys from his belt, handing them to Morrible. "And _you _are going to get her back for me."

As Morrible undoes the lock Glinda takes a step further inside the cell, arms crossed defiantly over her chest. "Never," she snarls. "She's free from you, why would I ever want her back here?"

Morrible's eyes gleam, the brief flash of anger that crosses them quickly replaced with subdued calm once more. She nods to the other guard who without a word leaves the dungeon. Morrible turns back to Glinda, throwing the cell door open as she tells her, "you will do as I command because I also have your mother and a very hungry herd of Unmentionables that have not been fed in quite some time."

Glinda masks the panic that grips her heart by grinding her teeth and narrowing her eyes into the grey ones filled with merciless amusement ahead of her. She doesn't believe Morrible. She wouldn't stoop so low as to use her own mother against her. _Literally_. It is such a cliché and— _sweet Oz_! Glinda's thoughts are derailed as her mother is escorted down the prison steps. Her expression falls, eyes betraying the fear now threatening to overwhelm her.

She whirls on Morrible, "Leave her out of this!"

She can hear her mother's shrill shouts as the guard drags her down the short corridor. "Unhand me! I've done no wrong!"

Morrible pinches the bridge of her nose, letting out a grunt as Edlyn is thrown in front of her. She pushes her aside, the guard once more taking Edlyn in his hold. When she begins protesting again Morrible snaps, "Oh, _do_ shut up! You are but a small pawn in this."

Edlyn's eyes finally focus past Morrible, widening as they land upon her daughter standing within the cell. "Glinda!"

Glinda shoots her mother a look of confidence, a brief smile of pause before her righteous glower is back and directed straight at Morrible. "Let her go. If she's so insignificant to your plans then why bother at all?"

Morrible steps forward, seething as she hisses out, "Because if you don't find your little green lover for me, I will not hesitate to toss her to the horde."

Edlyn can't hear what Morrible's just said, but she understands a threat when she sees one. And Morrible is not one to be trifled with. Not with the power she knows the woman holds, magical, political and otherwise. She fears what is to come next. What could Morrible possibly want with her daughter? Glinda's a free woman! With a quivering voice Edlyn asks, "Glinda… darling… what is… w-what is going on?"

Glinda can hear her mother's pleas and swallows down the hurt they cause her as she matches Morrible's forward motion and levels with her ex-superior. "I don't know _where _Elphaba is. I came here last night looking _for_ her."

"I am not stupid, Miss Upland!" Morrible bellows, face red. "I realize that your efforts were in_ vain_ last night. I should have made myself _clearer_," she growls grabbing Glinda by the collar of her blouse, eliciting a gasp from Edlyn in response as Morrible demands, "you will hunt and track down Elphaba or I will kill your mother."

Glinda opens her mouth to speak but is stopped short of uttering even a word as Morrible tightens her choking hold, fingernails scraping along the hollow of Glinda's throat. She hastily adds, voice full of fiery wrath, "And do not lie to me! You were my best student, I know this task is but child's play to you!"

Glinda bristles in Morrible's grip, spitting out harshly, "What do you want with her?"

Morrible tosses Glinda away, the blonde stumbling for a moment before quickly recovering. "I'm not discussing my matters with you," Morrible says, wiping her palms along her coat lapels. They are adorned with an assortment of brooches, varying in size and garish in color. Morrible seems not to care that her fingers bruise as they brush along the sharp gems and metal.

It stills Glinda, seeing Morrible so carelessly unaware of her own wellbeing, no matter how insignificant the move may appear to be. It always starts small, Glinda thinks. If that's how she treats her fingers what's to say she doesn't do the same for the rest of her body? Let alone the body of another. Her heart lurches painfully as she thinks of the hurt Morrible must have inflicted upon Elphaba. The smell of blood still lingering in the cell does nothing to quell her anger. If anything it spurs her further. She can't let her mother be taken. Not by the monster Morrible has become.

"You threatened to kill my mother," Glinda snarls as she levels with Morrible once more, this time coming so close as to see the craze lined thickly in Morrible's dull eyes. "I believe that _involves _me in your _matters_."

Morrible isn't used to such blatant defiance. The occasional foolishness yes, and many an expectation unmet, but this? This is something that makes the hairs on her arms stand to attention. It infuriates her to the point that she wishes to just reach out and strangle the blonde into submission. Yet she knows that even with magic to aide her, Glinda poses a serious threat. It was one she never took lightly, watching as the girl morphed into a ruthless soldier. _This is that girl_, she muses now, _the one made of my own doing_. Her eyes narrow, a flash of the respect she once bestowed upon the woman standing so resolutely before her resurfacing. She will tell Glinda what the blonde so desperately wishes to know. It's not as if the green freak won't be telling her the same once she finds her. "The matter is simple," Morrible begins to explain. "Elphaba has not succeeded yet in finding a spell powerful enough to rid Oz of the Undead."

Glinda groans. "There is no spell because there is no cure!"

"That's what she was always saying but there MUST be," Morrible counters. "My scientists _insist_ upon it, the best sorcerers left in Oz _assert it_ so! Who are you to say otherwise? You, who so easily have fallen prey to her tainted blood! There _is _a way to stop this! There-"

"There isn't!" Glinda shouts, tired of this argument and Morrible's inability to grasp the truth. Elphaba's obviously tried to get through to her and look where that has left her. In a cell reeking of death buried deep beneath the Palace. Forgotten. Hated. Glinda's fuse is lit. She cannot believe the audacity, the _inhumanity_ of the woman before her. Livid, she erupts in a fit of fury, screaming, "There is no way to end them! No spell that will _ever _work! The only way you'd ever kill them all is by freezing Oz! And that's ent—!"

_No_, Glinda exclaims to herself, stumbling back from Morrible. _No!_

Her face is still flushed red from the outburst; cheeks warm to the touch as a chill digs deep under her skin. _No_, she thinks. She didn't scream something so foolish...

Something she knows the demented woman would be more than willing to try.

But Morrible did hear, and what more she understands. With an imperceptible grin pulling at her mouth she asks, "W-what did you say?"

Glinda purses her lips, eyes flittering to her mother who looks on, horrified. She replies to Morrible, gaze still locked with Edlyn's. "Nothing."

"No, you said you knew a way. A storm," Morrible breathes, eyes brightening at the visions swimming in her head.

"It's not a way," Glinda insists. "It's a _death sentence_."

"Exactly!" Morrible beams.

"For us!" Glinda shouts. "A death sentence _for us_! You cannot freeze Oz and expect the life outside these walls to live!"

"A sacrifice I am willing to make." Morrible says offhandedly as she waves for one of her men. He departs with a nod and a smile forms over her face at his retreat. She turns back to Glinda.

"You'd die casting a spell so powerful," Glinda tells her.

The smile on Morrible's face only widens as she replies, "Who ever said _I_ would be the one to cast it?"

* * *

><p>The ground is wet and dotted with rapidly melting flurries of snow as Elphaba and Fiyero make their way through the winding streets. Elphaba's anxiety only intensifies at the sight of the ice. <em>Morrible has figured it out<em>, she thinks. She's finally breached the last line of sanity clinging to her mind. And what more, she has Glinda amidst it all.

Her pace quickens. Fiyero hurryies to match her strides.

He walks briskly once he's level beside her, arm brushing along hers. He's huddled close, Elphaba thinks, uncomfortably so. She tries to distance herself, her sole focus on getting to the Palace without drawing the attention of the Gale Force standing at every street corner. But for every step away she takes, Fiyero corrects, sticking to her side as if afraid she will take flight and leave him behind.

Elphaba spares him a withering glance, surprised to find an expression of contorted bitterness knotting his features as he stares up at the sky.

"Morrible," he scowls, voice impossibly low. He turns to meet Elphaba's eyes, ready to explain what he knows of her weather enchantments but it's his turn to be surprised when she says,

"I know."

He doesn't have to pry further to gather what the unspoken emotions he can hear laced in her voice must mean. He knows what Morrible is capable of, and what more he has a feeling the green woman is reliving it now.

The air grows thicker, colder with every step closer to the Palace they take. Fiyero crosses his arms over his chest tightly, biting back the shiver that threatens to ripple through his body.

Elphaba feels cold for an entirely unrelated reason. Morrible could care less about the repercussions of her enchantment. Elphaba's lost count of the people they've passed who stare, confused, up at the sky, wondering what more could possibly be in store for them now.

What horrors will they now have to face, endure?

Horrors which Glinda is being subjected to, cold that will surely kill her soon if Morrible isn't stopped. _It's just like the forest_, Elphaba realizes as the fear sinks beneath her skin, pulling her down and threatening to drown her in its enormity. Her legs feel heavy, body slowing under the pressure of the mounting danger. Elphaba is sure that no one is there to keep the blonde warm this time.

She starts running.

Her legs ache, desperate for her to cease but she urges herself faster, back exploding with a renewed wave of pain.

She does not care.

She does not care that the snow falls so heavily around them that the Palace has become nothing more than vague silhouette of grey in the white sky. She does not care that Fiyero breathes heavily behind her, snow crunching mercilessly beneath his boots as he tries to catch up, as he pleads for Elphaba to slow down, to wait for him.

She does not care.

She has to get to Glinda. She dares not to think of what could happen otherwise.

They make it another two blocks when the snow suddenly ceases. Elphaba's chest heaves with deep, ragged breaths as she comes to a stop, confused and overwhelmed with relief by the sudden halt of Morrible's storm. Fiyero steps up beside her, skin pale, cheeks burning pink. His lips are tinged a dangerous shade of blue.

She doesn't feel the cold which he apparently sprinted through behind them: the cold that still seems to be biting at his skin as he shivers beside her. Without thought Elphaba moves closer until she can once again feel his shirtsleeve press against her own. Fiyero's eyes are wet and squinty against the bright sun now beating down upon the fresh snow. But more so his eyes convey the bewildered awe he feels at the heat pouring from the green woman. It seems to wash over him, seep down and wrap snuggly about his chilled bones.

"Ha-handy sp-sp-spell," he stutters with a thankful grin.

Elphaba's eyes are focused on the Palace a few blocks ahead as she answers him distractedly, "Not a spell. I do it naturally."

"St-still h-handy," he says as he leans closer, arm sliding to link with Elphaba's. "I swear I'm n-not trying something," he replies as she shoots him a glare. He nods discreetly over his shoulder where behind them down the street a ways a few Gale Force are watching them carefully.

Elphaba spots them and relaxes her posture, wincing at the pull along her shoulder as she does. A flicker of concern flashes in Fiyero's eyes at the hurt that just creased Elphaba's brow but he brushes the sentiments aside. The green woman is quick to recover her face, pulling up once more on the borrowed scarf that has fallen around her neck and tugging down upon Fiyero's cap on her head. He readjusts it for her, his fingers toying some with the edge around her ear.

"They're still watching," he whispers, cold hand slipping to cover Elphaba's. She stiffens as he twines their fingers and gives a gentle tug on her hand. "Follow me."

Elphaba feels like slapping him as she follows dutifully, if albeit grudgingly, behind Fiyero as he leads them up the street. His shoulders are loose, head held high, ever the picture of the handsome Prince she knows him to be. It infuriates her. She is more than capable of crossing a street and not drawing attention to herself. As if Fiyero's charade here is any better than what she could have done.

She suppresses the urge to roll her eyes, remembering why she is allowing herself to follow along with his plan. _This is for her_, she repeats in her head. _Fiyero knows what he's doing, he's been one of them. Trust him and you'll be with her soon_. With an imperceptible tug to Elphaba's hand Fiyero pulls her to walk beside him. When her steps even with his own he releases her hand and a moment of calm returns to the green woman at its departure.

That is until she feels that same hand slide behind her shoulder as he tucks her under his arm.

"This is _unnecessary_," she growls.

"Happy couples don't get bothered," Fiyero explains, ignorant of or purposely ignoring her icy tone. "And I'm cold," he adds sheepishly.

It takes them what feels like a short eternity to Elphaba to finally round the next corner. Once clear out of sight from the suspicious Gale Force Elphaba shrugs off Fiyero's arm. He seems unfazed by her actions, too busy focused ahead where he finally can spot a bit of the Palace walls poking up over the tops of some apartments. They quickly make their way over, thankful that the majority of guards seem posted on the streets and not around the Palace perimeter.

"This way," he whispers, motioning for Elphaba to stay close as he makes his way to the exit he used the night previous when he escaped with her in his arms. The small gate to the palace courtyards is open and unmanned once more. A few guards huddle by a nearby fire, more concerned with staying warm than the entrance they're supposed to be guarding.

Fiyero and Elphaba slip past them easily, sticking to the overgrown shrubs that nearly swallow the pathway to the palace. Elphaba thinks it's eerily silent as they rush forward, but she realizes why only a moment later. The Undead are quiet.

It worries her, what it could mean? Did Morrible succeed? Was she able to freeze them so suddenly?

_No,_ _she couldn't have_. That would mean… Fear grips Elphaba's heart as the silence persists. _Glinda!_

As soon as Fiyero pries open a door recessed near the Palace laundry, Elphaba is quick to slip inside. Without word to Fiyero she takes off for the cellars, the route already engrained in her mind. She's sure Morrible would have deigned it as good for the blonde as it was for her.

A few guards put up resistance as she comes running down a corridor. But their rifles easily entrap them, Elphaba's magic quick to coil the metal tightly around their arms, pinning them uselessly to their sides. Fiyero is astonished as they sprint past. Elphaba didn't even raise a hand, her control over her magic is so fluid he understands now why Morrible kept her trapped so.

Were the bars of her cell enchanted? Is that why she couldn't bend them as easily she did the rifles?

He quickens his pace as Elphaba speeds forward. Her lungs feel lit ablaze, legs soon to give out as she bursts through the cellar door and descends the stairs to the dungeons two to three at a time. She's panting furiously as she leaps to the floor, muscles straining beneath her skin. She can vaguely feel the chill in the air, the implications of the sensation nearly sending her crashing to the floor.

She nearly does when her eyes land on the figure huddled, curled so tightly upon her bed of straw in a fruitless attempt to cling to the warmth Elphaba knows it cannot provide.

Glinda is freezing.

"Sweet Oz," Fiyero gasps once Glinda enters his field of sight. "Keys," he breathes. "I'll find the keys!"

He whirls on his heels, only making it a few paces before a sickening crunch of metal meets his ears. The grating noise fills the cellar, loud and powerful as Fiyero turns, eyes wide at the sight before him now. The door to Glinda's cell has been wretched clear from its hinges, the bars bent and twisted, jutting up sharply from the ball Elphaba has just collapsed it into.

Without so much as lifting a finger!

Glinda's eyes are slow to open as Elphaba allows the mess of metal to drop to the floor, the ball clanging loudly upon impact. Fatigued as she is, the adrenaline still pumps furiously though her veins and spurs her forward. Her legs finally give out as she crashes to the floor beside Glinda and gathers the trembling woman into her arms.

"El-Elphie?" Glinda murmurs, dazed, skin impossibly cold to the touch as Elphaba envelops her tightly, willing as much of her warmth into the blonde as she can.

"I'm here," Elphaba whispers, feeling her magic burn hotter as Glinda's fingers attentively take hold of her coat. She urges her power to surge, for the pale face cradled against her chest to regain color. For the blue eyes struggling to focus upon her own to clear. She rubs Glinda's arms and back, pressing the blonde further against her.

Behind them she can hear Fiyero trying to ignite a fire in the hearth beside an alcove designed for prison guards. His steps bounce as he jumps in place to keep warm. After a singular focused thought from Elphaba, Fiyero yelps and jumps back, surprised at the fire that roars to life.

And as it fills the room with much needed warmth Glinda finally regains feeling in her limbs, arms desperate to wrap around the woman holding her so closely. She can feel Elphaba's lips, heated and slick as they press softly against her temple, just under her eye, her cheek.

She tilts her head, craving more contact. Elphaba's lips catch on the corner of her mouth. Glinda's hands clench the fabric of Elphaba's coat as their lips finally do meet. Elphaba is desperate in her touch, kiss bruising. She never wants to forget the way it feels to kiss Glinda, the way her heart races and her mind grows quiet. All she can feel is the spur of emotions kept held back within her for so long finally spilling over and into the kiss. She doesn't even realize she's begun to cry until Glinda pulls away and brushes the tears from her cheeks with a few lingering touches of her lips.

Glinda doesn't want to let go of Elphaba, not now that she finally has the woman in her arms. She wants to tell her everything, wants to tell her how much she's missed her, how hard she's tried to free her. Yet as their eyes meet, she realizes she doesn't have to say a word. Even in all the months apart Elphaba understands everything she sees storming behind the blonde's dark eyes. The hurt at her departure and the months spent falling into despair, desperate for even a glimpse of the woman she adored. And the love that burned throughout it all.

Elphaba's own eyes soften, the tears still pooling as she leans forward again and captures the blonde in another kiss.

"I love you," Elphaba murmurs against Glinda's lips.

Glinda whimpers, kissing Elphaba desperately as she breathlessly utters back the same words again and again.

Fiyero tries not to watch, back turned and eyes rooted to the floor. The crackle of the fire does nothing to drown out the women's voices, their devoted pleas… the sound of their reunion. He briefly glances over his shoulder to find them still wrapped in each other's arms, kissing as if this may be the last time they're able. As if without the other they will cease to breathe, cease to _be_.

He turns around, jaw clenched as he wills the envy bubbling inside him to subside. He wishes he could just be happy for the blonde, and while a part of him is, another far more vocal part seems to be screaming at him otherwise. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to let her go fully… but he must. For her sake he must. His ears perk once he hears their voices again, this time without the uttered devotions.

"What's happened?" Elphaba asks as she brushes some hair from Glinda's face.

The blonde leans into the touch, a sigh elicited from her swollen lips as she explains, "I stupidly told Morrible about freezing them. She had to go see for herself if it was true."

Elphaba tenses in Glinda's arms as she realizes Morrible has very much proven it to be true. She pulls Glinda to her, brushing their lips lightly as she tells her softly, "then we're going. Right now, we're leaving. We'll go to Fliaan if we must; we just can't stay in Oz any longer."

"We _can't_," Glinda says, her voice cracking, as her eyes grow fearful. "She has my mother, Elphie."

"Then I'll get her back and we're leaving. Together," she adds and let's her eyes flicker to Fiyero's before turning back to Glinda. "All of us."

With that Fiyero enters the cell, helping both women back to their feet. Elphaba leads them out of the dungeon and back to the upper floors. There is only one place Morrible could be, Elphaba thinks. As they follow her out to the platform Glinda takes a sword from one of the indisposed guards still wrapped in his rifle in the hall. Her dagger may have been easier, and she's far more practiced with it then swords but she feels the blade will do fine. Either way Morrible's throat will be slit. She doesn't plan to leave until the woman's blood stains the floor.

When they finally walk out onto the platform, they can see Morrible shouting instructions to her frostbitten men. Smoke rises from the pit ahead as the sounds of a fresh batch of Undead being herded into the containment paddock reach their ears. Elphaba's nerve only grows stronger at their guttural cries. Glinda's anger rises in tune.

And there, beside the large woman, held back by one sole guard is Edlyn, staring in horror down into the horde which now fills the space.

Morrible turns, about to give another order when her eyes land on the three new additions. She's not surprised to see them. Not in the least.

Her mouth curls into a smirk as she shifts her massive weight upon her feet. "I knew you'd bring her to me."

"Glinda!" Edlyn exclaims, relieved to see her daughter and even more so at the sight of Fiyero with her. This shall all be over soon, she thinks. They can go home, have some tea, and hopefully laugh about this in another five years from now. Though Edlyn thinks it may be perhaps ten or even fifteen in her case.

A few Palace guards approach, weapons at the ready as they make their way toward Elphaba. Glinda steps in front of the green woman, sword brandished, daring them to take another step further. Fiyero withdraws his pistol, standing steadfast beside the blonde.

Morrible groans loudly, "leave them!" she hollers. "You'd last all of five clock ticks at the most anyway," she mutters.

Glinda's mother looks to her daughter, to Elphaba and then back again. Her eyes take in Glinda's protective stance, the subtle shift of admiration in Elphaba's eyes. The familiarity with each other, the touch the green woman places along her daughter's lower back…. the look of devotion that flickers in those blue eyes so like her own.

"She's the one," Edlyn gasps as realization dawns upon her. Of all the women in Oz to fall for she cannot believe her daughter has fallen for the stricken girl! "You're in love with _her_?"

Glinda shoots her mother a glare. There's a bit of fondness still in her eyes but it's overpowered by her exasperation. She feels Elphaba's hand plant itself firmly in the center of her back as she growls out, "now is _not _the time Momsie."

"But she's—!" Edlyn sputters but lets out a sudden yelp as the guard holding her tightens his grip.

A powerful shout tears from Morrible's throat. She's sick of their arguing, sick of those standing in her way of ending this once and for all. With a flick of her wrist the guard and Edlyn are tossed into horde.

"_No_!" Glinda screams for her mother, shoving past the guards as she rushes to the side of the platform. Below there is nothing but a mass of hungry Undead. Her stomach twists at the sight of them, at the blood now coating the hands and faces of those nearby. Glinda's shoulders fall, the sword in her grip scraping along the wooden floor.

Her mother is gone.

She pivots on her feet, sword brandished before her once more as her expression hardens. Her blue eyes are the darkest Elphaba's ever seen them. Morrible doesn't falter under the intensity of Glinda's glare. With a roll of her eyes she turns back to Elphaba.

"Get in position," Morrible tells her, motioning behind her to where the crystals stand, waiting for Elphaba's power.

Elphaba stands her ground, meeting Morrible's gaze evenly. That is until she hears hurried steps impacting along the floor. Her eyes dart up, heart stilling at the sight of Glinda charging straight for Morrible.

"Glinda, _no_!" Fiyero shouts, about to rush ahead but is quickly tackled by a few guards before he can stop the blonde.

Just as Glinda prepares to drive the sword through Morrible's gut, the older woman whirls, arm outstretched as she grabs Glinda magically by the throat and lifts the blonde clear off her feet.

And then straight over the waiting horde.

Glinda fights against the hold, slashing her sword up into the invisible force that seems to want to strangle the very life from her. She chokes on air, gasping as she lets her sword fall to the Undead below. Her hands are quick to claw at her throat, desperate to find purchase on the magic holding her hostage.

"Let her go!" Elphaba exclaims, panic stabbing into her gut. Her eyes meet Glinda's, the blonde growing still under Morrible's enchantment. She tries to relax in the hold, breathe deeply, evenly. She has to remain stoic, has to maintain composure despite the fear seeming to want to swallow her whole. She doesn't want Elphaba to see her in pain. Not if this is her last moment.

The Undead below her don't frighten her.

It's the look of sheer dread in Elphaba's eyes that does.

Glinda focuses instead on Morrible, her eyes narrowed with scorn.

"Please," Elphaba comes to Morrible's side, her hands trembling as she tries to pull down Morrible's arm. "Please, I'll do whatever you ask, _anything_, just _please_ bring her back."

A few guards grab her by the shoulders, yanking her away from Morrible, who maintains her concentration on the blonde in her hold. Without looking to Elphaba she tells her, voice low, barely audible over the cries of the Undead reaching for Glinda below, "You know what I want. I've written the spell, it's all ready." She turns to Elphaba, gaze calm as a steady grin forms on her painted lips, "Now,_ read_."

Elphaba looks to Glinda. The blonde shakes her head. "_No_," she mouths, voice trapped.

Elphaba tears her eyes away, tears springing to her vision as she spares a glance to the emerald crystals. She can feel Morrible come up behind her, the woman's presence towering over her own. She could kill her now; a simple charm is all it would take.

But Elphaba knows she cannot, not so long as Morrible needs to maintain her concentration on Glinda.

With a heavy heart she steps in place between the crystals, allowing her palms to rest against the cool glassy surface. The effect is almost instantaneous. She can feel the energies trapped within the emeralds latching onto her skin, pulling her hands painfully against the surface. Her breaths shorten at the sensation of her power being torn from within her body, at the searing cuts it seems to slash along her veins. Her eyes, now wet with tears, focus on the simple sheet of paper pinned to the top of the Grimmerie.

With one last look to Glinda she begins to read.

Fiyero and the guards who hold him back look on, astounded as the sky erupts with clouds, the grey rapidly stretching far beyond the blue horizon. The air cools, temperature dropping with every tick of the clock upon the tower. Fiyero clenches his teeth against the biting wind that rips through the back of the Palace. He needs to stop this. With a quick jab of his elbow into the stomach of the guard to his side he's able to free one arm. The guard doubles over, coughing as he composes himself. The other tightens his grip on Fiyero's arm but with his right hand now freed he manages to place a curled fist into the Gale Forcer's face. The guard is thrown to the floor by the impact, knocked out as his head collides painfully with the hard wood below.

The other guard curses, lashing out at Fiyero who ducks the swipe of the man's sword. On the second swipe Fiyero tackles the guard to the ground. Another punch to the face and that guard too grows still. He digs his pistol from within the man's lapels, jumping to his feet not a moment later.

And then he trains his gun on Morrible.

"Bring her back," he snarls, pressing the tip of the barrel against Morrible's temple. He can hear the rifles of the guards surrounding the platform rise. He bristles at the sound, forcing his own gun harder into Morrible's head. "_Now_, or I will shoot."

"Shoot me and she dies," Morrible says. With a smirk she loosens her hold on the blonde. Glinda screams as she drops, her voice quickly muted as Morrible tightens her grip once more, the blonde's feet now brushing against the Undead hands below. She struggles in the hold, wheezing as she kicks off the verdigris hands clawing for her legs.

Morrible feels a chill penetrate deep into her bones. Her eyes dart to Elphaba, unsurprised to find the green woman focusing her incantations on her. As sleet begins to fall hard from the sky Morrible feels her insides beginning to frost, fingers first to solidify.

She purposely drops Glinda some more.

Elphaba halts her attack.

Fiyero cries out and rushes to edge of platform. He fires off his pistol, killing the Undead tall enough to get their mouths on Glinda's boots. Before he can empty the barrel he opens the gun, heart stilling as he finds a mere two bullets left.

A burly beast of Undead flesh leaps from the horde toward Glinda. With a gunshot and a splash of blood it falls back to its brethren, dead. Fiyero breathes hard as he grips the gun. His eyes meet Glinda's, the blonde losing color in her face as she stares knowingly back at him. Fiyero's heart stops beating as he watches her hold out a hand. She understands. _She knows this is it_.

Elphaba's tears fall silently in thick ribbons down her face as Fiyero tosses the gun to the blonde. Glinda uses that last of her strength to catch the pistol. Her numb fingers grip the weapon, careful not to let her only salvation fall to the horde below. She takes her last breath. Morrible's cackle rings out, piercing through the freezing air. _It's over_, the mad woman thinks. Glinda's finally given up. The Undead below are slowing, their cries staggering.

Morrible smirks.

Glinda locks eyes with Elphaba.

The sleet doesn't seem to touch the blonde, or she just can't feel it anymore. Either way a strong, unwavering and serene smile forms over Glinda's frostbitten lips. Elphaba stops speaking at the look directed solely at her.

At the defeat in the blue eyes above.

At the understanding.

"_Love. You."_ Glinda mouths as she brings the gun to her own head.

"_No_," Elphaba whimpers, trying to pry her hands from the crystals to stop her.

The hammer is clicked down.

"NO!" Elphaba screams.

The clouds part, sunlight streaming brilliantly down into the horde.

Glinda begins depressing the trigger.

Morrible's smirk grows.

Glinda turns her eyes to Morrible. The older woman's gaze widens as the pistol is pointed between her grey eyes.

Glinda is dropped just as the last bullet is fired.

Both women fall.

And Elphaba screams, roar echoing across the Palace yards, as Glinda is lost to the horde.


	24. Endure

**AN:** And so we've reached the end. I just want to thank all of you for sticking through for yet another crazy story of mine! Thanks for reading, thanks for leaving such wonderful comments and thanks to those keeping in touch throughout. :) I am afraid though I have some not so good news to share. I don't know if I will be continuing the third installment. It's been well over a year since I wrote anything for it and honestly if it wasn't for Throppsicle and I joking around one day about zombies that this story would have ever seen the light of day. (So really you should thank her for prodding me to write this!) I wish I could finish the third story, I really do. It frustrates me that I have no drive for it and am letting so many of you down. :( I am so sorry. But hey, who knows what I may write next? ;) Thanks again for all the support over the years and I hope you've enjoyed reading Verdigris. Happy Halloween!

**Chapter 24**

_Endure _

"_Glinda_!" Elphaba screams, prying her hands from the emeralds, fingers breaking as she tears them from the harsh pull of the crystals. She doesn't care about the pain as she rushes forward to the edge of the pit, eyes riveted to spot in the horde where the blonde disappeared. She can hear her heart pounding in her ears, exhaustion nothing but a memory as her legs propel her forward faster than she's even run. She can't see the blonde, not one wisp of her hair. With every step forward it feels as though a piece of her heart, of her very soul breaks away, crumbling to the ground in her wake. Glinda can't be gone yet! There's no way she's already been turned!

She's been in worse situations before!

And if she can't get herself out…

Elphaba will.

The edge approaches ever faster and Elphaba unleashes her fire enchantment, the blue flames licking up her arms as she prepares to leap down into the horde. The air is knocked from her lungs as Fiyero grabs her around the waist, pulling her back. She thrashes in his arms, screaming for him to release her, scorching the hands clasped firmly over her stomach.

A cry echoes from the pit, primal and fierce.

Elphaba's legs give out under her, overwhelmed with relief as the glint of a sword slashes through the air below, Undead dropping fast as Glinda cuts them down, holding fast, holding strong…holding on.

Fiyero gives a holler, a sound of cheer and praise raised from his throat as Glinda continues cutting a bloody path toward them. Elphaba watches in stunned awe as the blonde fights, fights for her very life, just paces away. She wants to call to her, wants for Glinda to know she's here, _right here_. Their eyes meet briefly, barely for the span of a blink but it's enough; it's enough to stir within Glinda the burst of speed and adrenaline she needs.

She was so sure the moment Morrible dropped her that the Undead would tear her limb from limb before her feet could even touch the floor. If it wasn't for Elphaba's weather enchantment she's sure they would have. That spare second of time before the first Undead brought it's bony hands upon her shoulders was all she needed to retrieve her fallen sword. His hand was sliced off first, followed by a quick plunge of the weapon through its neck. They converged faster after that first kill, desperate to sink their teeth into warm flesh. Glinda could hear Elphaba calling for her, voice pained and frantic. Her heart beat faster, her sword slicing harder through rotting flesh and bone. She had to make it back to Elphaba.

She was given this second chance.

There was no way she would fail again.

_Nothing_ would stand in her way.

Morrible watches the blonde cutting through her hungry horde with rapt and stunned attention. Appreciation even… for she was the one who shaped the girl into the fierce warrior that she is. A cough rips from Morrible's chest, blood spurting from her mouth. She sags against the platform, every breath rendering a sharp pain into her heart. She swears she can feel the bullet nestled in her lungs, prying the last bits of life from her consciousness.

_This is it_, she muses.

And she'll be damned if she goes out without bringing the blonde down as well.

Elphaba leans out over the pit, hand stretched toward Glinda, the blonde mere paces from her now.

"Burn them!" Morrible bellows with her last breath. "Burn them… _all_!"

Elphaba inhales sharply at the command. The guards below the platform are quick to enact the orders given to them. She can feel the hum of power shaking the platform. The incinerators spread throughout the tunnels below soon to blast streams of deadly flame into the containment pit.

As Morrible lies dead, and the smell of oil leaks into the air, Elphaba leaps into the horde behind the blonde.

Glinda feels warm arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close just as fire erupts from the tanks in the tunnels spread throughout the enclosure.

Fiyero turns from the blaze, the heat searing at his skin even from a distance. The pain of the fire is nothing compared to the hurt now settling deep in his chest. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. He isn't supposed to be biting back unforgiving tears on the verge of collapse. As if the very life in him has been taken. Is burning in that fire just as Glin-

_NO!_ He shakes his head. The sting of his tears are finally too much to hold back as he lets them freely fall down his cheeks. They were going to Fliaan. They were going to be safe!

A cry chokes its way from his throat as the inevitable truth of what's occurred hits him.

Glinda's gone.

He couldn't save her...

But he can end Morrible's madness.

He turns to the nearest guard, shouting to be heard above the roar of the flames. "Turn them off!"

The guard falters, unsure whether to obey or not. Fiyero moves forward, fists clenched, an aggressive and challenging scowl etched upon his face.

"Turn them off!" the guard hollers. The rest of the guards echo the command until finally, blessedly, the fire swirling viciously in the pit dies, smoke flooding the air in the wake of its raw power.

Fiyero hears a groan from somewhere behind him. He turns at the sound, surprised and enraged to find Morrible crawling toward him. Her nails dig into the wooden floorboards, veins along her hands ever prominent as she pulls herself toward him, another animalistic grunt pulled forth from her dead lips. Fiyero grabs the guard nearest to him, unsheathing the man's sword as he walks calmly up to Undead and beheads her with a single swipe of the blade.

"Good riddance," he mutters as Morrible's head rolls toward the end of the platform.

"Look!" another guard calls from atop one of the towers, rifle pointed down into the smoke-filled pit.

Fiyero runs toward the edge, eyes desperate to see through the thick smoke just beginning to dissipate. The ground is uncovered first, just a few yards below where he stands. Black, burnt ash covers all. Not a single Undead left, not one bone. Nothing. Quiet.

He drops his sword.

What little hope he held falls with it to clang against the platform.

The sound rings throughout the silent enclosure, driving a deeper wedge into his already weakened heart.

A cough sounds from below, echoing loudly up in the silence.

For a moment Fiyero ignores it, sure it to just be a guard beneath the deck.

But he hears it again, softer this time... familiar.

The smoke clears and there stands Glinda, huddled safely in Elphaba's arms.

Fiyero falls to his knees at the sight. A laugh, an impossible sound of relief, pulls from his throat.

Glinda clings to Elphaba, clutching tight to the front of her blouse with one hand. Her other hand feels as though it is smoldering, the sword long forgotten, melted to the ground. It's a negligible pain in the wake of what's just happened. Of the magic that flares around them, humming so strongly she can feel it vibrating in her gut. Her eyes open, gaze rooted to the green face above.

Elphaba lets out a long breath, legs growing weak as she meets Glinda's eyes. "You all right, my sweet?" she asks, breathless, feeling lightheaded, knowing she is soon to pass out. But she needs to know, "You weren't… bitten… were you?" She wills herself to hang on, to hold out just long enough for Glinda's answer.

Glinda smiles up at Elphaba, shaking her head and she pulls the woman into a hug. "You know me better than that," she muses, pressing a kiss over Elphaba's rapidly beating heart. "They never touched me."

Elphaba grins, her limbs suddenly numb. "I'm so… tired…"

Glinda kisses her, easing Elphaba against her. "It's okay," she whispers. "Everything is okay."

"Glinda…" Elphaba murmurs, eyes falling closed, her breathing slowing.

"I'll be here, I'll be right here when you wake up," she hears Glinda telling her. "I'll _always_ be."

* * *

><p><em>4 Years On<em>

"The real power lies in how well crafted your arrow is." Glinda explains, holding up a half-whittled arrow she'd been carving from a piece of Beachwood. It's taken her a while, and it's nowhere near as elegant as the ones she used to carve before the loss of most of the fingers on her right hand. Four of them were severed years ago in the blaze of fire behind the Palace walls. She tries not to look at the mangled mess her hand has healed to be; at the way the ugly scars streak across her palm, stark and raised along her flesh.

Just like Elphaba's…

Memories of that fateful day are always too powerful to ignore, even now as she stands before her class. She holds her crude arrow up in her left hand, right hidden dutifully behind her back. Her thumb remains, or some of it anyway; a small nub extending from her hand. It's useless most of the time, barely able to grasp anything let alone allow her the dexterity of firing the arrow she displays in her other.

She misses archery. She misses the ease with which she used to accomplish ordinary tasks. She remembers how difficult it was adapting to the loss of her dominant hand. Buttoning a shirt became a daily frustration, penning a letter nearly impossible… Oz, even tying her hair in a ribbon became such a burden that for a while she relented to always wearing it down.

It's been four years though now and things have gotten easier.

Yet even after all this time she still finds herself reaching for things with her broken hand. She's still ashamed of her disfiguration…. her weakness.

A blur of a body darts into view behind her class, shouting, "Real power is in the fists!"

Glinda glares over at Fiyero, her frustration not quite reaching her mouth, amused smirk firmly planted over her lips. She doesn't know why the man is interrupting her lesson let alone doing so in such object opposition to what she's_ trying_ to instill into the young minds sitting along the grass in front of her. But seeing the man feigning to throw a punch, much to the delight of the children, finally dissolves what little aggravation she originally held.

She still can't believe they've regained the friendship they started all those years ago at Kellswater. It was a struggle for both of them to get to the comfortable place they are now. Fiyero was in love with her for so long he didn't quite remember how not to be. It took him years to finally turn that love back into the friendship they've formed now. And given time he's turned out to be her closet friend.

She still wishes he'd find a girl deserving of his love, if so just to mollify the obvious jealously that still strikes Elphaba whenever she sees the two together.

She smiles at the thought of the green woman, before a frown mars her features as she remembers where Elphaba is now. Shaking her head clear of thoughts which are sure to worry and upset her, Glinda composes herself once more, focusing on the man still punching the air in an obvious show of exaggerated machismo.

She represses the urge to laugh out loud at his ridiculous antics. She must set an example for the children… even with them in hysterics as they are now.

With a roll of her eyes Glinda walks over to him, giving his shoulder a playfully hard shove as she tries to dispel him from her lesson.

"Hey," Fiyero objects, standing his ground firmly, "I'm trying to teach them something _important_ here."

"This isn't a lesson in being an ass!" Glinda says with a laugh as she pushes against his unrelenting frame. When she realizes he's not moving she crosses her arms over her chest as she stares up at him, still very much the picture of a disgruntled teacher. "Go home before I'm forced to show them just how _powerful_ a fist can be."

The children begin giggling, whispering to one another before Glinda gives them a look from over her shoulder which instantly quiets them all.

Fiyero is smiling down at her, amazed, when she turns back to face him. "That is _never _going to stop being impressive."

Glinda shoves him again, this time with less force and an obvious smile tugging at her lips. "Did you come here just to get a rise out of me or are you here for a reason?"

Fiyero's grin slips as his expression grows serious. He gives a nod of his head, silently asking if Glinda can speak with him for a moment, elsewhere. She sighs, nodding, motioning for him to go as she turns back to her small class. "Keep working on your arrows," she tells them with a smile. "I'll be right back to help."

Some of the children return to whittle their arrows with renewed vigor knowing Miss Glinda will return to help them and wanting to impress the woman whom their parents regard in such high esteem. The others – the ones Glinda is always complaining to Fiyero about – her troublemakers, sneak behind some hay piles to eavesdrop on the adults' conversation. As they poke their heads around into the barn entrance they're surprised, two giving loud shrieks, when their eyes lock with those of their very much displeased teacher.

"Sticks. Whittle. _Now_," she growls and they quickly flee back to join their classmates in the grassy field.

"Did I ever tell you how wonderful a mother I always thought you'd be?" Fiyero chuckles as they both watch her students return to their sticks. "Because I'd like to amend that. You'd make a_ terrifying_ mother."

"All the more reason I was never equipped with the ability in the first place," Glinda tells him with a half smile as she leans against one of the barns support beams.

Fiyero sighs as he hears the blonde's tone dip. He knows Glinda will never admit it, but he has a feeling she'd love to have a family of her own some day. At one point in his life he was sure it would be with him but now… now he feels for the blonde's loss. For as much as Glinda seems to tolerate the kids who cling to her legs in greeting he knows she enjoys the feeling of being so openly loved.

And for as big a person as Glinda has become in the eyes of those in their Isle town she seems so small standing beside him now.

Taking a deep breath he readies himself to ask the question he's sought her out for. "Have you heard any news?"

Glinda's chin lowers, eyes now downcast to the floor below. She scuffs her boot along the wood, giving a small shake of her head. "I haven't heard from her in weeks. Chistery is always so _r-reliable_…" the last word comes out as nothing more than a choked sob.

Fiyero is quick to gather Glinda into his arms as the tears she's only ever vowed to shed at night finally see the light of day. He hugs her tighter, whispering, "Elphaba is fine. She _always_ comes home."

"I miss her. _I miss he_r," Glinda cries into his shoulder.

Fiyero clenches his jaw, hating Elphaba in this moment until logic fills him once more and he realizes he can never hate the woman whose absence pains Glinda so. Not when she's out there, trying to save as many lives as she can. Not when she's the sole reason they're all alive today. So Fiyero does all he can, pressing a chaste kiss to Glinda's head and telling her Elphaba will come back to her.

She always does.

She promised to treat Glinda well.

She hasn't broken her vows.

He has faith in her.

As Glinda's cries turn to sniffles he unwraps his arms from around the blonde. She gives him a shy smile of thanks before wiping at her eyes and returning to her class. Fiyero watches her from just inside the barn. He watches as Glinda sighs loudly at the sight of her class playing with their would-be arrows as if they were swords instead.

He watches as she uses her good hand to pluck one of the sticks from a rather jubilant little fighter and with a smirk lights the tip on fire.

The child is shocked by the display of magic, plopping down to his butt upon the grass in awe.

He watches as the rest sit down again and turn their attention back to Glinda. Back to the woman who so effortlessly leads them all.

He watches a smile spread across her face as she lets out a chuckle before carrying on with her lesson.

He watches her carry on as if her wife isn't possibly lying dead in a field of Verdigris back on Oz.

* * *

><p>Late that night Elphaba lands her broom roughly in the garden behind the small home she shares with Glinda. As she tumbles head over feet through their strawberry plants she simply allows her body to take the beating she feels due. She's failed, yet again, and this time with far more consequences than ever before. She finally comes to a stop, limbs aching and sore from her fall. She can't help as her memories of the past days come rushing back to her. Images of finding the tiny refugee camp cloistered around Lake Chorge fill her mind. The smiling faces of the children when their parents told them they'd be going someplace safe, <em>finally<em>. The trust those families placed on her shoulders. Losing Chistery to the largest horde she'd seen yet and shortly after the senseless deaths of all the people she promised to bring to safety...

The strawberries squashed beneath her body feel sticky, their smell ever a reminder of the lives lost because of her… because of her _need_ to _rescue_ as many as she can. Elphaba is surprised when fresh tears form in her eyes. She swore she had none left after having shed everything in the desert sky. A sob catches in her throat and she sits up, clutching her chest to control the way her heart seems to want to break free from her ribs. She's never been responsible for so many deaths. Never felt this drowning ache inside her that threatens to swallow her soul whole.

She's done, she thinks. No more. She can't keep making these trips only to come back alone.

She doesn't think her heart can handle another death under her watch. She doesn't think she can _survive_ losing another life.

Especially after losing one as precious to her as Chistery's.

Elphaba cries harder, burying her face in her knees as she hugs them to her chest. This was not how it was all supposed to end. She was supposed to find survivors and bring them to the Isle, bring them to salvation. Save them from the curse her father has wrought upon the Land of Oz.

Elphaba takes a ragged breath as she looks out over the ocean beyond the grassy bluff. The waters appear calm far down below the cliff, moon high in the night sky. As she breathes in the crisp salty air she feels the storm raging inside her subside. It still clouds her vision, senses spiked and mind still filled with grief, but her tears no longer stream from her tired eyes.

She no longer feels as if she will be swallowed whole.

Her soul is still intact, if bruised and battered beyond repair.

With a great sigh Elphaba lifts herself from the ruined strawberries, the smell of death lingering on her skin as she drags herself to their outdoor bathing well and rinses the memories from her body. They will haunt her tonight for sure. She can barely sleep without being plagued with nightmares of all those she's failed. But Elphaba also knows that Glinda waits for her inside, hopefully already asleep in their bed.

Whenever she is wrapped in the blonde's arms Elphaba need not fear the night terrors.

She's always been safe in Glinda's embrace.

The promise of finally seeing Glinda after all these weeks and the dreamless sleep soon to follow in her arms pulls Elphaba from the steady stream of water cascading down her back beneath her blouse. She whispers a simple drying spell, something she picked up long ago from within the pages of one of the many books of magic she'd managed to salvage from her trips to Oz. Her hair wafts in the warm breeze that swirls around her body. As the spell fades she's left dry and continues into the home.

Exhaustion grinds at her joints, her muscles stiffening as she makes her way to the map pined just above their quaint kitchen table. Elphaba tries not to think about how most of the paper tacked to the wall is covered in red. Almost as if the very map is a giant blood stain upon their home. With great effort Elphaba picks a piece of black charcoal up from the small container beside the map and adds, with a heavy heart, a small 'x' over Lake Chorge. The map is littered with similar marks, each one pierces her heart, a little of her soul left behind in Oz.

Another rescue failed.

Another spot in Oz where humans and Animals alike cease to exist.

Elphaba remembers when they first came to the Isle after fleeing the now overrun Emerald City. At least a hundred or so people fled with them that fateful day. Many died on the journey but those who survived were not deterred. They believed Elphaba to have been the one to finally end Morrible's reign. They vowed to follow her anywhere, and that's exactly what they did.

Elphaba can't help but let a rare smile cross her lips as she thinks of who truly vanquished that horrid woman. She wonders how Glinda would have dealt with so many putting such blind faith in her. She's sure the blonde probably would have passed the credit on to her anyway. Or even Fiyero for that matter before ever thinking to take credit herself. He's been a good friend, she thinks. And an ever better one to Glinda. He was content to be a part of the blonde's life and help them whenever he could. She vows to herself, as she always does, not to be so –for lack of better word- _green_ the next time she sees the two together. Fiyero has come a long way since that day they met at Kiamo Ko. But a small part of Elphaba will always still see that angry bit of him beneath the surface. She just wants Glinda to be happy. They both want the same.

And she knows how upset the blonde gets when she leaves on yet another one of her fruitless missions.

Elphaba hates having to go alone but she can't bear the thought of losing Glinda. Especially when the blonde is safe here, especially when so many turn to her for guidance. When so many need to see her just to know they are still safe.

Broken hand and all.

The small community they've built upon the Isle is all most those people have left. What was once a few dozen has now grown to a few hundred. Families reunited, some started, more survivors were brought in. It's been over a year since Elphaba has had to use the small ferry boat tied to the shore. No one has been able to survive the journey back to the Isle with her.

Not even her magic can quell the size of the hordes which now roam the Land of Oz.

She wishes she could just fly those she finds to safety, but she hasn't been able to recreate the same spell that enchants her broom. Nor the one that sprouted wings from Chistery's back.

"Chistery," Elphaba breathes as the fresh pain of losing him so viciously stabs at her heart once again. Before more tears can return to her eyes she quickly kicks off her boots and hurries as quietly as she can to the lone bedroom. She needs Glinda's strength, now more than ever. When she feels on the brink of collapse she needs those strong arms around her; needs to know she's still alive. That she's still here, that's she not the monster she grew up believing herself to be. The one she feels herself to be now.

Elphaba peeks in through the slightly ajar door, knowing the blonde never closes it, just in case she were to return that night. A quivering smile pulls at Elphaba's lips as her eyes land on the peaceful body of the woman she loves sleeping soundly under their covers. With a sniffle and a swipe of the back of her wrist across her nose, Elphaba enters, careful not to wake the blonde as she slips under the sheets behind her. Elphaba shuffles closer, inhaling Glinda's scent deeply as she slides an arm over the blonde's stomach and cuddles up along her back.

This is what Elphaba lives for. _This_ is why she keeps fighting. To make it home to Glinda. To get just one more chance to hold the blonde. To tell her how much she loves her.

Glinda keeps still as she feels Elphaba bury her head into the back of her neck. She knows something has gone horribly wrong on her trip. The green woman only ever returns acting this way when lives have been lost. She allows Elphaba to continue thinking she's asleep, allowing the woman the moment she needs right now. If it were up to Glinda these moments never need happen. If only the green woman would let her come on her searches. Oz, she'd ride upon that blasted broom from here to eternity without complaint if it meant she could know Elphaba was safe. If she could be there to _keep _her Elphie safe. But she knows it's impossible. Not with the loss of hand.

It's why she's been practicing magic so diligently.

Someday they'll be able to travel together once more.

Until then they have an agreement; one Glinda knows she must see through.

She stays to keep those upon the Isle safe and Elphaba tries to do the same for those still in Oz.

It's not perfect, and it's not what Glinda wants but she knows she can't keep Elphaba's heart from performing the good it was meant to do. She always makes sure the night before Elphaba is to leave that their lovemaking is powerful, impassioned and full of everything she wishes she could put into words but simply can't articulate in any other way. She hopes it makes the green woman wish to return sooner but with every letter Chistery returns with from Elphaba she knows she should have known better.

But this time is different. And her heart stills as she recalls never receiving a letter before Elphaba's return from the Monkey.

What happened?

Glinda slowly turns around in Elphaba's tight embrace, the green woman not at all surprised to find the blonde wide awake. The brown eyes say everything Glinda needs to know and she bites her lip to keep the tears from staining her cheeks as they have the green ones beside her.

"Oh, Elphie," Glinda whispers brushing some of the loose strands of dark hair back behind a green ear. Elphaba clasps Glinda's hand within her own, pressing the back of the blondes fingers to her cheek. Glinda's brow knots with a frown as Elphaba nuzzles along the pale hand and presses light kisses to the blonde's knuckles. When Elphaba's eyes meet hers once more Glinda untangles her hand from Elphaba's to cup the green woman's jaw in her palm. "I'm so sorry."

"I-it all happened so _f-fast_," Elphaba stammers, voice still very much unstable and hoarse from the tragedy of days before. She swallows thickly as she turns her eyes to Glinda's collarbone and plays with the undone buttons of the blonde's nightdress. "I don't think I can do this anymore," comes out as barely a murmur.

Glinda slides closer until there is but an inch of space between their bodies. She knows she'll regret what she's about to say next, but she also knows it's what Elphaba needs to hear. And if she's honest with herself, it's the absolute truth. "You will," she tells her softly. "I know you Elphaba, you may want to quit now but come tomorrow you'll see those unchecked spots on that map and you'll want to fly off again as soon as you're able. It'll eat you up otherwise if you stay here. You'll always be thinking there are people still out there. You'll always want to do the right thing."

"It's not enough anymore, Glinda," Elphaba sighs, finally looking back into the blonde's steady gaze. "_I can't lose anyone else_. I c-can't- I'm not _strong enough_."

"Shhh," Glinda whispers pulling the now crying green woman into her arms. Elphaba clings to Glinda's shoulders, sobs wracking her frail body. Glinda holds her tighter. "The hundreds you've saved would disagree. They love you Elphie; _I love you_. Have you any idea how proud I am to call you my wife?"

Glinda feels Elphaba shake her head beneath her chin. She kisses the top of the dark-haired head. "Well, I am," Glinda tells her. "I'm proud you keep searching for hope on Oz even though I worry far too much while you're gone. I always know you'll come back though. You promised to always come home."

Elphaba smiles against Glinda's chest, letting out a deep breath as she feels some of her pain ebb at the blonde's words.

"I've missed you," Elphaba admits weakly as she finally pulls from Glinda's embrace to look up at the blonde, eyes no longer hollow. "Thank you for putting up with my inexorable hero complex."

Glinda leans forward, closing the small gap which separates them to press a kiss to Elphaba's temple. "I love _everything_ you are," she says softly, scooting down so that she is eye level with the green woman once more. A slight smirk curls at her lips as she tells Elphaba, "And I think I mentioned once before you never have to thank me for it."

Elphaba smiles at Glinda as she recalls that night. "I've really, _really_ missed you."

Glinda senses the change in Elphaba's tone, the drop of her voice. She touches her forehead to Elphaba's and whispers in a similar tone, "I've missed you too."

Elphaba watches as the blue of Glinda's eyes darkens, matching the deep color of the ocean beyond the window. They can each feel the breath of the other, shortening, flittering across parted lips. A whimper escapes from one of their throats; the jolt sent through both bodies at the sound finally brings their lips crashing together. Glinda is quick to tangle her fingers in Elphaba's hair, pulling the green woman's head closer, their lips bruising at the intensity of the kiss.

A covered leg slips between pale thighs, Glinda giving a groan in pleasure as she rolls on top of Elphaba, their kiss only deepening further. Elphaba feels Glinda's uncovered heat slipping along her trouser leg. She wants them off, wants to feel Glinda pressed against her without the offensive material in the way. As their kissing grows more frantic, lips swelling and cheeks flushing, Elphaba works quickly to undo the buckle of her belt.

It's always like this after they've been apart for so long. Always this lustful, this full of need and longing. The trousers are shimmied down green legs, Glinda kicks them off Elphaba's ankles as her hand works to undo the buttons of her wife's blouse. Glinda rakes her teeth across Elphaba's bottom lip as she sits up in the green woman's lap. Glinda slides her hand beneath Elphaba's blouse, the green woman inhaling sharply at the touch. She picks Glinda's other hand from her waist, sliding it beneath her shirt until it meets its twin.

"Elphie," Glinda tries to remove her broken hand but finds Elphaba resolutely holding it in place against her ribs.

Elphaba kisses her softly, barely a brush of lips as she tells her, "I love you, Glinda, _all _of you."

Glinda shifts in Elphaba's lap, shy smile pulling at her lips upon hearing the confession. The heated green skin burns into Glinda's palms as the unbuttoned shirt falls open before her. She wants to knead the skin revealed below her, press her lips over the small breasts and feel them brush along her own. But she's far too clothed for that.

Elphaba begins to pant below her, eyes unfocused as Glinda slips her nightdress up and over her shoulders. It's tossed to the floor, leaving Glinda's absolutely nude and blushing body exposed for Elphaba's roaming hands. Hands which are quick to slide up Glinda's back as she pulls herself up and latches her mouth to one of Glinda's breasts.

The blonde sucks air quickly between her teeth at the attention now placed along her chest. She feels her hips roll into Elphaba's as the green woman's tongue drags over a sensitive nipple. "_Elphie_," she manages to breathe out, tangling both her hands back into the dark hair.

Elphaba loves hearing Glinda call for her. Loves hearing how she makes the ex-soldier breathless above her. Elphaba wants to taste more, needs to taste more. She flips Glinda down to the mattress, the blonde letting out a small yelp at the sudden move. But soon all is forgotten as Elphaba's hands replace her mouth's ministrations and she kisses her way down to where Glinda wants her most. The blonde's back arches off the bed as Elphaba grabs one of Glinda's thighs and rests it over her green shoulder. She can smell Glinda's need pouring from her core and its all Elphaba can do to contain her own arousal as she finally presses her mouth to Glinda's center.

The blonde clamps her thighs against the side of Elphaba's head at the sensation of her wife's tongue slipping along her. Her fingers dig into the sheets below as her hips move up to meet each of Elphaba's long strokes. She can feel her body coming undone, the heat pooling in her lower gut. Once last push sends her over the edge entirely, her legs convulsing as she gasps Elphaba's name out into the night.

She feels Elphaba pressing light kisses to her thighs, over her sex and up to her navel. The soft touches bring her body down, spine relaxing against the damp sheets. A light sheen of sweat coats her body as she finally basks in the afterglow of her climax.

She really can't believe how incredible Elphaba has gotten at this.

She doesn't think she can move and she really doesn't want to. She'll have her taste of Elphaba later, for now she's content to calm her rapidly beating heart as her body continues to tingle.

She's content to have her wife back home.

"Love… you," Glinda says between bated breaths, a lopsided smile firmly planted on her face and eyes closed in bliss.

"Love you, too," Elphaba whispers with a similar grin as she presses her cheek to Glinda's slick stomach, breathing hard as she hugs the woman close. She can feel Glinda's accelerated pulse inside the blonde's thighs still resting beside her ribs. She doesn't want to move. Doesn't want to stop the rush of life surrounding them both. She lives to feel Glinda breathing beneath her; lives to be the cause of the blonde's happiness.

And as Galinda lightly runs her hands through Elphaba's hair the green woman can't help but sink further into her wife.

She lives to continue loving the blonde.

She lives to _feel_ this loved, finally, after so many years alone.

She won't give this up.

Just as she won't give up searching for survivors.

They are there and she will find them.

She will keep spreading hope across Oz.

They don't write her name upon the fallen walls for nothing. They know green leads to salvation.

They know,

_Elphaba Lives._


End file.
